In The Hands Of The Devil
by Ella L
Summary: Colorado Springs is shocked: Michaela is missing and the only clue to her whereabouts is a note with a ridiculous ransom demand and a cruel threat. But also Hank is disappeared without a trace...
1. Chapter 1

**In The Hands Of The Devil**

**By**

**Ella L.**

**This is the translation of my already completed German story "In den Händen des Teufels", which can be found here too. **

1.

When she came around, the first she perceived was the musty smell of wet half decayed wood. Slowly she began to feel her limbs again and an unpleasant pain in the right shoulder came to her consciousness. She could sense, that she was lying on the floor, obviously the floor of a cabin. Her head was resting against a wall and her fingers could grope coarse planks. Her fingers… only gradually she became aware, that she could move her fingers, but not her hands, which were tied behind her back. Full of panic and fear what she might see, she opened her eyes, very slowly, in case somebody would be in the room, somebody who brought her in this position.

At first she couldn't see very much, because the room, where she was, was only scantly lighted and her eyes hadn't got accustomed to it yet, but at least she could recognize outlines, the outlines of a few pieces of furniture, a desk, a couple of chairs, a chest and – her heart skipped a beat – the outline of a human body, which was lying on the floor motionless just a few feet away from her.

It was the outline of a man with long hair. She knew him. But she couldn't remember how they both had gotten to that place and what had happened.

She remained lying still for a while, trying to listen and not to pay attention on her rapidly beating heart at the same time.

Somebody just had to be there. How long had she been here already, or rather had _they_ been here?

An anguished groan made her jump. The man in the other corner seemed slowly to come around as well. He also was tied up, but in contrary to her he pulled hard at the ropes as soon as he became aware of them, regardless of somebody who could possibly hear or watch him doing so.

The hopelessness of this venture and the obvious pain, which were additionally provoked by those movements, however let him stop very soon. He breathed heavily and searching for something that might help him he finally turned his head in her direction.

An involuntary scream, which she startled suppressed at once though, escaped her at his sight. Even with this dimly light she could spot the broad, gaping wound on his forehead right under his hairline and the blood that covered almost the entire left side of his face.

"Michaela", he burst out in dismay. His voice sounded strained and even rougher than usual, but suggested that the injury probably wasn't as bad as it looked like.

He tried to straighten up, which cost him immense effort.

"You better stay lying", she admonished him in a low voice, "you are hurt."

A softly snorting laugh was the answer. He gave her a short look and his usual sarcastic expression seemed to be returned on his face, even if all that blood made the effect less convincing this time.

"Well, I've noticed that already myself, you know, but I don't think, that lying around like driftwood will help us make some headway." And again he tried laboriously to bring himself in a straight position. Very evidently his head was aching at every move and Michaela looked concerned at him, still not capable to stir herself. Finally he was sitting there, his back propped against the wall, his eyes were shut and he was heavily breathing. Only now she noticed, that his legs were tied up as well, just like her own. It was so strange, everything seemed to be revealed to her quite slowly, she was only able to make separate perceptions, as if she would turn around the pages of a book, one after the other. And the time before… she couldn't recall at all.

She drew up her legs and checked their possibility of movement, which, as expected, didn't actually exist, then she supported herself with her bound hands behind her back and with a little sweep she could manage to straighten up too. Now she was sitting right opposite to Hank. He opened up his eyes half and twisted his mouth to a light grin.

"That's better", he muttered und let his eyelids drop again.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Meanwhile they had all gathered in front of the clinic.

Since Sully, on his desperate search for Michaela, had broken open the door and found this dirty slip of paper with the spidery scrawl on the examination table, the confusion had become greater and greater.

Michaela had been missing since the early afternoon. She was neither at home nor at Grace's, nor at the clinic, which had been found locked.

Loren had had an appointment in the afternoon and had been indignant that Michaela had obviously simply forgotten about him earlier and had driven to the homestead. He had loudly complained about this to Dorothy at the Gazette next door.

A little bit later however a completely unsuspecting Sully had showed up to pick up his wife.

And so it turned out, that Michaela hadn't driven at home at all.

And on top of that Katie was still with Grace and Michaela hadn't looked after her in the meanwhile, which wasn't a bit like her.

Gradually they began to get worried and the confusion reached the highpoint, when Jake Slicker came over from the Gold Nugget and announced that Hank after a visit to the clinic had gone missing too, in any case he hadn't showed up at the Gold Nugget again.

"Dr. Mike and Hank?" Loren blurted out dumbfounded, whereupon he incurred the reproachful gazes of Dorothy and Grace, while Jake, at the sight of Sully's worried face, could barely stifle a grin.

"Who saw her last?" Sully tried to suppress the fear, which took more and more possession of him and made an effort to think practically.

"She was in the Café at noon today anyhow", Grace said, "but of course I don't know, if anybody has seen her after that"

"I saw her going to the clinic", Dorothy reported, "but that was only fleetingly and afterwards I've been so busy with an article, that I haven't paid attention on anything else." She sounded as if she would reproach herself on this and glanced at the group awkwardly.

"Hank must have seen her", said Jake, "after all he was going to her at the clinic."

"Aww, but that's no use, since he isn't around either", Loren growled impatiently.

"Maybe they're both simply still inside." Preston, who had been ignored at first, let suddenly hear his voice and although his tone wasn't in the least provocative this time, everybody stared at him, as if he suggested something completely outrageous.

He cleared his voice quickly and added: "Well, the simplest solutions sometimes really are the right ones."

"That's just absurd", Dorothy frowned, but to everyone's surprise Sully began to violently shake the front door of the clinic.

"Sully, what Preston said sure is nonsense" Robert E. tried to sooth him, but Sully pushed him aside.

"No matter which way you look at it", he retorted determinedly, "we must get into the clinic to find out what's going on."

"But you can't believe…" Dorothy began once more, but Sully became impatient and cut her short: "Of course not, but something has happened in the clinic and to discover what we have to go in, even if I have to break down the door for it.

He paused briefly, then turned away and ran to the staircase, which led to the balcony. When he got up there he shattered one of the windows with his tomahawk and opened the door from inside. Jake Slicker and Robert E. followed him into the clinic.

Of course there was nobody there. They searched the whole building, every room, but only when they reached the examination room they got a rough idea of the incident, that had taken place there hours ago.

The first thing that caught their eyes was the blood on the floor and on the examination table. The second was that slip of paper, also smeared with blood, dirty and crumpled.

What was said there caused Sully's heart to almost miss a beat:

_If the doctor shall stay alive, you have until three o'clock in the afternoon, in two day's time ,and you will bring a bag containing $10000 to the spring of the Silent Creek._

_If we get the money, you'll get the woman back the next day, if we don't get the money, you will receive her scalp instead._


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Michaela had been silently sitting there for quite a while listening to see if she could hear any noise from outside and anxiously observing Hank from time to time.

Apart from the fact, that she still couldn't understand, how they both had gotten in this situation, she was glad not to be alone in this musty old cabin. On the other hand it seemed to be not only that Hank wasn't in the condition to give her support, but also that on the contrary he was the one who needed her help. But that was completely impossible.

Finally she couldn't bear the silence.

"Do you have any idea, what happened?" she asked still with a lower voice.

Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her blankly for several seconds. He probably tried to recall as hard as she did. But then he slightly shook his head and instead of an answer he said: "You can save your whispering. Here there is nobody to hear us, far and wide. Besides it strains me." He closed his eyes again and groaned faintly.

"Hank, please", Michaela felt her stomach getting cramped with fear and helplessness.

"Do you really not remember anything at all?" Her voice had this imploring tone now, which he never could completely elude, and although his head felt as if it would burst at any moment, he tried to focus:

He had come to the clinic, because Michaela had insisted on another examination of his inflamed throat, which in his own opinion had been all right for ages. And since he had had no time anyway, he had appeared earlier as arranged, intentionally overlooking the closed-sign at the door. He had noticed that Michaela was back from lunch and wanted to use the opportunity to show his displeasure this way. He also hadn't waited until she answered on his short knock, but had just stomped inside, because he had known, that there would be nobody except Michaela. But he had been wrong, there were people, men, one of them held a cloth to Michaela's mouth and in the very next moment Hank took a terrible blow to his head, which sent everything into darkness.

He told Michaela all that but only with some difficulty and she listened frowning and wondered why she couldn't remember anything. According to Hank's report, they had given her chloroform, sure, but that wasn't an explanation for the loss of every single memory about the time right before.

The only thing, which was absolutely clear, was the fact that somebody had abducted both of them. But who should have done this and why?

She just wanted to open her mouth to discuss all these questions with Hank, when they heard footsteps outside. First footsteps on grit then on wood. In Hank's face she saw the same tension she felt herself and which made her heart beat wildly. She recalled that this wasn't her first abduction and she wasn't prepared to meet such a nightmare again.

Suddenly the steps stopped and Michaela was perfectly certain, that somebody stood right in front of the door.

She tried to meet Hank's eyes and wished all of a sudden she had made the effort to crawl over to him before. She wanted the nearness to someone she knew no matter how irrational that might have been.

The door opened. So quickly, that one could barely perceive if and how it was unlocked.

There were three men coming inside all their faces covered with flour bags, which were provided with slits for eyes and mouth. For a brief frightening moment Michaela felt reminded of the men of the KKK, who had worn similar hoods, but apart from that these men here wore normal albeit slightly shabby clothes: worn out jeans, shirts and jackets.

One of the men remained at the door, the second one strolled slowly into the room, a gun in his hands. He seemed to be fixated on Michaela and observed her attentively. The third however, the smallest and slightest, perhaps still a boy, came with a bowl of water and a towel, went straight to Hank and knelt down next to him. When Michaela realized what he intended to do, she took the opportunity:

"Please, let me treat his wound, I'm a doctor."

The boy turned around to her and then to the man at the door.

The second man in the room let out an unpleasant chortling laugh:

"We know very well, that you are a doctor, sweetie." He came straight up to her and placed himself close to her against the wall. Then he pressed his knee against her shoulder.

"And that's not everything…" he whispered in a meaningful undertone.

Michaela desperately tried to turn and move away from him, when Hank's cutting voice was audible.

"Leave her alone", he roared across the room and despite the fact that he was neither in the situation nor in the condition to emphasize his words, Michaela noticed with slight admiration that there was a certain dangerous nature in them. However, she doubted in the very next moment, that that was very beneficial, because the man resolutely pointed the gun at Hank and furiously ordered the boy to step aside. He didn't move though and looked at the first man at the door instead.

"I said, out of my way. We should have finished him off in the first place, instead of carrying him along. He only causes trouble."

He aimed but hesitated apparently not quite sure of himself.

Michaela screamed: "No, don't." The boy started to move a little bit though, not away from Hank but quite the reverse closer to him.

"Enough of that." The deep sonorous voice of the first man sounded as if he would do nothing more than to talk some sense into some naughty children. Slowly he came nearer and Michaela noticed the same authority in the way he moved. He took the gun away from his mad companion quite calmly and indicated for him to go with a movement of his head. Then he turned around to Michaela: "Please, forgive my friend's poor manners and, don't worry, the boy here knows exactly what to do, you really don't have to trouble yourself."

Although Michaela was well aware that there could be no objections to what he said, she was surprised at his cultivated way of talking and at his polite and quiet tone.

But with one movement completely out of the blue and quick as a flash the man was next to Hank pushing the gun right under his chin, so that the muzzle was pressed against his larynx. Hank helplessly battled for breath and was unable to utter a word, not even a sound of pain.

"And you, young man", his attacker said as quietly as before, but dead cold, "you must know one thing: We don't need you. You are not in the least bit useful, quite the opposite. You are alive just because the boy here wanted it and because a dead person would have been rather unfavourable for us. But believe me, it is not at all that important for us. Therefore it would be clever, if you considered this next time when you're intending to play the hero."

Abruptly he drew back the gun and Hank who was already on the edge of losing his consciousness tipped rattling to the side.

Without taking a further note of him or of the boy the man left the cabin.

Michaela was trembling from head to toe and didn't dare to say a word. The boy also remained still at first, but then he dipped the towel into the water, brushed a strand of hair out of Hanks brow and began to wash the blood from his face without a word.

Michaela watched the scene silently. Hank was still fighting for breath and coughing continually, but with every gentle touch on his face he seemed to become more and more relaxed. After a few minutes the boy was finished. He put the bloody cloth into the bowl and afterwards he took something out of his jacket pocket, a kind of powder, which he was dabbing on Hank's wound. When he had finished this, he stayed at his side for another moment as if he wanted to make sure, that he was all right. At last he put his hand briefly on Hank's shoulder, then stood up and was about to leave the room, when Michaela plucked up her courage and asked, if he possibly could bring them something to drink. The boy hesitated shortly and then just nodded.

After he was outside, one could hear that a bolt was put across the door and then there was silence again.

Michaela waited a moment.

"Hank?" she called him anxiously, "Hank, are you all right?"

She heard a hoarse growl, actually it didn't sound very alarming, but she repeated nevertheless: "Are you all right? ... Hank?"

"Just a minute, Michaela", he answered a bit more intelligibly albeit with a croaking voice. Now she was completely confused over of such a reply.

But then Hank rolled over from his side to his back and Michaela had to speechlessly establish, that on his face which was no longer covered with blood there was an expression of satisfaction and relaxation. Considering, that he barely escaped from death shortly before, the slight grin playing around his lips almost struck like a lunatic.

"Hank?"

He didn't show any reaction.

"Please, tell me what's going on", Michaela insisted.

He sighed and once more started the difficult venture to bring himself in a sitting position, which made the satisfied expression on his face disappear for the time being and let return the pain in his head and recently in his throat too. However as soon as he safely had rested his back and head against the wall, he began to smile again.

Michaela, in spite of all her fears and worries inside, blew her top.

"Would you please…?"

"It's a woman", he interrupted her.

"Pardon?"

"The boy", Hank said and when Michaela continued to look at him without comprehending, he repeated: "The boy is a woman."

Michaela starred at him in astonishment.

"What?" she stammered, "how do you know?"

Hank looked at her with his most ironic grin and lifted his eyebrows.

"Believe me, Michaela, I know, when I'm touched by a woman."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Sully stared dazed at the paper and didn't say a word. It was, as if he hadn't correctly understood, what he had just read. He was incapable of reacting, like he was trapped in a dream which he knew would be over in a few minutes. He often had such dreams. And even in sleep he was aware that he was only dreaming and simply had to wait until he would wake up. Now he had the same feeling. But this time he knew, that he really ought to do something, that he couldn't just stand around doing nothing, because there would be no awakening. But he just couldn't.

Jake and Robert E. had initially been stunned as well, but then Jake stepped in front of the door and announced the shocking news to the group waiting outside.

"Dr. Mike has been abducted", he said plainly, "they demand money". He cleared his throat and hesitated one moment before he added, "a lot of money". He decided to better keep the rest of the message a secret.

After a short instant of appalled silence the reactions started happening very fast.

Dorothy covered her face with her hands completely taken aback, Grace was deeply shocked and searched at once for the nearness of Robert E., who drew her consolingly in his arms. Teresa Slicker gazed at her husband with a stunned face.

The men couldn't hide their feelings either. Horace was pale like a sheet, the Reverend murmured a prayer soundlessly and with a shaken expression and even Preston had lost his usual sublime grin and looked as much affected as all the others.

"And what about Hank?" Loren asked Jake. He only shrugged.

"He isn't mentioned in that note", he said, then he looked at Loren and both read the same fear in the eyes of the other.

"How on earth is it possible to abduct somebody in broad daylight without being spotted by anybody, I can't understand that". Dorothy certainly had not entirely got over the shock, but her brain of a journalist, which investigated everything for possibilities and probabilities, always looking for causes and course of events, worked by itself.

Nobody could answer her question, but everybody was very well aware, that she asked it with good reason. The clinic was in the middle of the town, surrounded by places, which were permanently full of life. Moreover the people here kept an eye on each other, everybody knew everybody and something out of the ordinary or strangers immediately attracted attention. So, how could this happen?

Sully walked through the door. He still looked paralysed and seemed to just stare straight through everyone. Nobody had ever seen him like this.

"I suggest", Jake began to speak, "we put together a search party straight away and when…"

"No", Sully sharply interrupted him and Jake instantly fell silent. Everybody looked at Sully, puzzled.

It wasn't like him at all to sit on his hands, while Michaela was in danger.

What's going on with you, Sully?" Robert E. walked up to his friend and put his hand on his arm.

"Shall we do nothing at all?"

"We _can_ do nothing at all" Sully erupted desperately.

"We don't have the slightest track, not the smallest hint, where she could be. And these kidnappers have probably managed against all odds to let two people vanish from town in the middle of the day. They know exactly what they're doing. These are no harmless casual criminals. Where should we start there?"

Totally stunned the assembled inhabitants of Colorado Springs watched Sully practically breaking down in front of their eyes. The man, who did more dangerous things than everybody else in his life, who never shrank back from any challenge, who always searched for a solution and never gave in and who would have gone through the hell, if he had to do that for his wife and his family, this man stood there and was completely helpless and desperate. And the worst was, that everybody knew, that he was right with what he said.

Dorothy went over to Sully and put her hand comfortingly on his arm, but he didn't seem to notice her; he suddenly saw Preston in the crowd und and rushed towards him.

"I need $10000, Preston. You can have my house, the clinic, everything you want, but I need the money." He looked at Preston with his bright blue eyes as if he wanted to pierce him with them. Preston stared back in dismay, while the others held their breath.

"Sully…" Preston started hesitantly.

"Preston, please", Sully begged and everyone, who knew about the relationship of these two men couldn't believe their ears.

"I don't have the money, Sully", Preston finally said and sincere regret couldn't be overheard.

"I would give it to you, if I had it, believe me, but I simply don't have it."

"If not you, who else has?" Sully shouted, "Where shall I get this damned money?"

"Even if we collected the whole cash in the town, we couldn't scrape nearly enough together", Jake whispered to Loren.

Dorothy suddenly spotted the slip of paper Sully had dropped down, when he had gone over to Preston. She bent down, picked it up and read what was written on it.

…_if we don't get the money, you will receive her scalp instead._

She had a feeling as if she had to vomit right away. And it wasn't the horrific threat, which provoked this. It was something else. She ran her fingers over Loren's arm on the one hand to find a hold and on the other hand to get his attention.

"Come on, "she breathed close to him, "I have to show you something."


	5. Chapter 5

5.

After she had put the bolt across, she leaned against the door for a few seconds. She felt how she began to tremble again. She had to calm down at once. Warner didn't appreciate it, when he realized that someone lost control. Certainly he had already had Cass on the carpet, because of that scene before.

Warner himself never lost control, he was always unflappable no matter what he did, whether he helped a Lady in her coat or if he cut someone's throat.

He never acted in the heat of the moment, everything he did, he did deliberately, calm and with careful consideration. Even the worst…

Cass in comparison was unpredictable and choleric. Sometimes she didn't know who of both put her in more fear.

A few times she breathed deeply in and out and counted back from ten to zero while doing this. That was a method she made a habit, when her nerves began to fly, like in this moment… or in the last hours.

She observed the bowl in her hands with the blood-red coloured water and the equally bloody towel.

For a moment she had really thought, it was over, she couldn't do anymore for him. Her heart skipped a beat, when he suddenly shouted at Cass like that. She had also known that the danger wouldn't come from Cass, but from Warner. She knew them both so well now. Unfortunately.

This time he thankfully escaped, but she didn't know how much longer it would go well. Like Warner previously said: They didn't need him and if he was going to cause trouble, Warner would kill him without turning a hair.

Why did he have to burst into that damned clinic! Everything had gone like clockwork, all red herrings had been successful, they just had to wrap up that woman doctor and carry her into the wagon, when this tall, blonde guy stumbled into the room like a bird. For a fraction of second he had been looking directly into her eyes before Cass in a kind of reflex had pounded him on the forehead with one of the lamps.

She still didn't know what had prompted her to do it, but when Cass had drawn his knife and pushed the man's head behind to soundlessly cut his throat, she had jumped over to them and held onto his hand.

"Don't do that", she had hissed quietly and added as matter-of-factly as possible, "that wouldn't be good". Frantically she had tried to come up with an explanation, because behind her back she could already feel Warner, who had just let the unconscious doc drop onto the floor.

"Why wouldn't that be good, Noni?" he had asked with this quiet, low bass voice, which couldn't mislead her how dangerous he was any longer.

Cass had gruffly stopped, as always, when Warner interfered and stressed that he would have the last word, but she had known that one brief nod from Warner would be enough and the man would be dead in the very next second. Everything had depended on what she said next. She had focused on the unconscious man, as if it would help to find the right words, which could prevent Warner's nod.

"It would give the wrong signal, if they found a dead man here", she had said and even in her own ears it hadn't sounded very convincing yet.

"The people would think, that it is senseless, to come up with the money, since the doctor will be killed anyway."

"Or they would know, that we are serious and they would try even harder to get the money", Cass had objected.

"No. They would send up a search-party behind her, because they think, that they can't trust us. To leave a dead person behind doesn't exactly raise the hope to see the abducted one alive again. Believe me, it would be a big mistake."

She had become surer of herself and sensed Warner vacillating of his decision.

Finally he had delivered: They would take him along. Cass had protested violently, but one icy gaze from Warner had been enough to shut his mouth.

She had been very well aware about the fact, that she probably just helped him to gain a little bit more time. Warner, as already mentioned, didn't appreciate at all, if something or someone messed up his plans.

She breathed again deeply a few times before she went to others.

They camped in a small distance from the cabin, but it was exaggerating to speak of a cabin, it was more a half dilapidated shack which they had put their prisoners into and which had only one usable room. Cass had fixed that bolt to the door and boarded up the window, but Warner had insisted on leaving them bound, because in his opinion the rotten shack wasn't completely escape-proof.

On her way she poured out the bloody water into the bushes and pulled the flour bag off her head. By choice she would have kept on wearing it, because she sometimes suspected Warner could read in her face like in a book. And deep down she was afraid, that she hadn't convinced him at the clinic with her arguments, but that he just found her efforts to save the life of that man amusing and that he possibly expected even more amusement by taking him along.

Warner was difficult to read, but she had been through so much with him, that she could understand his way of thinking at least partially. In contrast to Cass, who was Warner's nephew and had known him his entire life, but who wasn't capable of just thinking one step ahead, not to speak of putting himself in someone else's place. Cass was malignant and stupid.

When she rejoined them, he gave her a furious look. She knew that Warner had given him a tongue-lashing and she also knew that Cass blamed her for that. She would have to pay very soon, as always in such cases.

She tried not to pay attention to Cass, but turned to Warner, who leaned on a fallen tree trunk and apparently had a little doze.

"Warner", she said, trying to find a quiet and functional tone, "the woman asked me, if she could have something to drink."

He opened his eyes and studied her face attentively, then he twisted his mouth to an almost friendly smile and said: "Of course, why not?"

She nodded and just wanted to take the water bottle to refill it at the spring, when Warner asked her, and she felt as if she could hear a lurking and examining undertone: "How is that guy?"

"I don't know", she answered struggling to sound as unconcerned as possible, "he isn't exactly fine right now, I think, but he will be." Cass let out a cynical snort, but Warner studied her facial expression again very carefully.

"Anything else?" she asked, not willing to let herself be intimidated or to walk into a trap.

"No", Warner replied not unkindly, "fetch the water and bring them. And if they need anything else, take care of that."

She looked at him in astonishment. But then he stated it as soberly as if he was talking about the weather: "Who knows, how long they'll live after all."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

It wasn't the first time that something that Hank did or said made Michaela blush, but that he still managed to do this even in such a situation made her all the more angry.

On the other hand, what he had discovered could actually be a positive fact, even if she had still no idea in what way. Her brain appeared to work considerably slower than usual, however her characteristic stubbornness, which had risen in protest against any difficulty so far began to stir. She couldn't simply sit there and wait until these guys came next time and then perhaps really killed one of them. They had to make a plan.

'A plan?' she sarcastically thought to herself the very next moment. A plan of how to get rid of a couple of brutal criminals when her and Hank's hands and feet were bound. It was ridiculous.

"Hank?" She needed to talk, even if he would never become her favourite person to have a conversation with, but there was just nobody else there.

"Hmm?"

"What shall we do now? I mean, what's the use of knowing that she is a woman?"

Hank grinned again, or rather still.

"Just leave it to me, Michaela, I know exactly what to do."

But it was just that Michaela would have liked to know it too and she was annoyed about his, in her opinion, inappropriate arrogance.

"Really?" she asked snappily, "like a short while ago when you shouted at that guy?"

But at the very same moment as she said this, she wanted to gladly bite her tongue. She knew precisely, how selfless and brave he had been to interfere. He had risked his life without hesitating for only one second and she reproached him for that and brushed it aside as pure thoughtlessness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that", she apologised remorsefully, "I'm very grateful for what you did, please believe me, it was… it was very brave."  
Hank just nodded but before he could respond, they heard again faint steps in front of the door. Immediately he tipped over to his side and when the bolt was moved and the door opened, he lay on the floor as motionless as before.

The 'boy' came alone this time, carrying a lamp, which slightly illuminated the room, and a water bottle. And of course 'he' wore that white flour bag over 'his' head. Nevertheless Michaela could see that 'his' first look was meant for Hank.

The 'boy' placed the lamp on the desk, but then he went first over to Michaela and held the bottle to her lips. Michaela, while drinking, tried to take a look through the eye slits, but the incidence of the light came from the wrong side and hit the back of the masked person, so she couldn't see that much. Only the hands attracted her attention and Hank had been right, they weren't the hands of a man or a boy. They were not only small, but also delicately-built and her movements were almost graceful. Michaela's heart was pounding, when she considered saying something, but then she remembered that Hank told her to leave everything to him. Alright then. Reluctantly she decided to trust him just this once. She didn't feel at ease about it. Whenever Sully said, he knew what he did, then she knew that she could count on it., but Hank…

The boy or rather, the woman in men's clothing, which Michaela was sure of now, walked over to Hank, who was lying on the floor. At first she seemed to be slightly baffled and looked questioningly at Michaela. However Michaela, who was equally baffled herself, even if in a completely different respect, didn't know if she should say something or what. But the woman apparently and fortunately misinterpreted the worried expression on Michaela's face. She bent over Hank and obviously checked his breathing and his heartbeat. In this moment Michaela urgently hoped, that he wouldn't react to her nearness as intensely as he did before, but he had decided to show a little sign of life. He turned his head and moaned agonizingly. It was an excellent performance and the woman, who it was meant for, was evidently touched by it. She whispered calming words, which were unintelligible to Michaela and laid his head in her lap.

Hank kept his eyes closed until she held the water bottle to his mouth and softly lifted his head. He drank, coughed disturbingly at the same time and finally he let drop his head back on her lap seemingly completely exhausted. She held him like this for a few minutes and stroked absent-mindedly over his temples and through his hair. Michaela feared the worst.

Eventually the woman got up and laid his head gently down on the floor. In that very moment he looked at her directly and this time the beam of light came from the front. She returned his glance with a couple of almost black eyes, big and shiny and slightly almond-shaped. He was so fascinated, that he nearly forgot to play his role as a seriously wounded person, but then he wearily let his eyelids drop down and murmured a croaky "Thanks."

The woman stroked his forehead one last time, stood up again and left the room without any further hesitation.

When she was outside and out of earshot, Hank took a deep breath and let it go with a soft groan. "Oh my God", he sighed.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Loren stared at the paper in his hand which Dorothy had pulled out of a file. In such files she kept interesting articles from all sorts of newspapers she was sending for. As the editor of a newspaper, this was her deep conviction, she had the duty to read as much as possible and to be informed about all kinds of incidents all over the land. Thereby she came across that very article Loren held in his hands now.

His face mirrored the same horror, she felt herself and which almost choked her.

"We have to tell it to Sully", he finally stated.

"No", she contradicted at once, "no, we can't do that. You have seen him, he is already devastated. He mustn't know this."

Loren's facial expression revealed a great unease, but he uncompromisingly shook his head: "No, he _must_ know this. He must know anything, which gives him information about the kidnappers. That's his only chance."

And before Dorothy could keep him away from doing this, he moved trough the door together with the article.

On the street most of the people had disappeared, but Daniel had arrived in the meantime and had been told of the terrible news. He sat next to Sully, who buried his face in his hands, on the bench in front of the clinic and tried to calm him, although he was certainly not much less shocked and worried himself.

Jake was talking to Teresa and Preston, Horace to Robert E. and Grace. The Reverend was near Sully, but said nothing and left it to Daniel to speak to him.

In front of the entrance of the Gold Nugget stood two of Hank's girls, who looked across in concern. Dorothy fleetingly wondered if they were anxious about their boss.

Loren stepped towards Sully and Daniel, but wavered partly, because he questioned, if it was actually necessary and partly, because he had no idea how to start.

But Daniel had already noticed him and looked at him suspiciously:

"Something wrong, Loren?"

Loren had to literally force himself, but then he said: "Yes, Dorothy just showed me something that you ought to see." He passed Daniel the article, but Dorothy came up quickly to join them and grasped it.

"Wait, Loren", she told him. "First I have to…" she took a deep breath, when Sully raised his head to look at her. "I have to start at the beginning."

She cleared her throat again and began:

"Several months ago I read an article in the Denver Post, it was about an abduction. The wife of a businessman in Denver was kidnapped in broad daylight. They demanded a ridiculous sum, however her husband could afford it somehow. In any case two days later they let her go free.

All that didn't sound very spectacular and I admit I didn't pay much attention to that case then and I had already nearly forgotten it – it happens so much in the world anyway - when I found another article a few weeks ago, this one, which is about another abduction, over in Manitou. This time it was the wife of a preacher. Her brother who must have been with her at the time of the abduction was found with a slit throat. Her husband wasn't in the position to pay. They found her corpse a few days after that, …scalped. The kidnappers had sent him the scalp of his wife before." Dorothy swallowed hard and then continued:

"In this article here it's also mentioned, that the businessman from Denver had received the very same threat and with quite a certainty the kidnappers in both cases were the same gang."

It was like everybody around Dorothy had been frozen to ice, like someone had stopped time. Then Sully suddenly got up. Dorothy sorrowfully looked at him, but to her great astonishment she saw, that life had returned to him. His eyes burned with determination. He grabbed the article from her hand, read it attentively, finally raised his head and said: "There is a witness after all."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Horace was frantically wiring: One telegram to Manitou, in which the local sheriff was asked for information about the case of the killed woman. A telegram to the Denver Post and one to the marshal in Denver; that was mostly about getting to know the name of that businessman.

Dorothy rummaged through her archive to find more hints and similar cases. Sully and Daniel were searching for tracks around the clinic, but they didn't find anything notable, because naturally the place was teeming with wagon- and hoof marks and countless footprints. Very soon they realized that this was a fruitless venture and they went inside to the consulting room again. You could tell by the looks of the room that a crime had taken place there not only because of the blood. On the floor next to the entrance was a broken lamp. The chair behind the desk was knocked over and the sheet on the examination table testified, that there had been somebody lying on it. But all this only let them make vague conclusions about the particular details of the crime. It seemed to be clear that Hank had been in the room at the time of the abduction and the blood was probably his. That also fitted in with their knowledge from that article that witnesses were ruthlessly removed.

"But when they killed him", Daniel said after a while, and with this he voiced what Sully just secretly thought: "where is his corpse then?"

At that moment Jake entered the room. He brought a telegram Horace had just received from Denver. The marshal had answered, but what was written on the paper was disappointing. For reasons of safety he wouldn't be allowed to give away the name of the victim of that abduction.

Furiously Sully crumpled the paper up with his fist and threw it to the ground.

"Damn! I have to talk with this woman. She is the only one who knows something about the kidnappers."

"Sully", Daniel tried to appease him, "the marshal certainly questioned her then. You can talk to him. That's better than nothing."

"I'm going riding at once", Sully decided.

"I'm coming along", Daniel declared.

"No, you better stay here and try to find out something else. No matter what it is. Maybe somebody has seen something after all, something that didn't attract their attention at first. You must take care of that."

"Then I'll come with you", Jake said.

Sully looked at him surprised, it was a rare thing that Jake Slicker offered him to help.

"Dr. Mike is very important to all of us", Jake explained and then added "and Hank is my friend." Sully took a deep breath and with an uneasy feeling he said: "Jake, it's quite possible, that Hank isn't alive anymore."

"I know", Jake answered and swallowed hard. "I'll come along with you to Denver. If we set off now, we'll be there before tomorrow morning and can be back by the evening."

Sully nodded, "All right, Jake".

When they went out to the street, Horace ran towards them. He had another telegram in his hand. It was from Manitou and contained no further information. It seemed that everything had proceeded there just like in Colorado Springs: in the middle of the day, without witnesses and without any tracks, except of course the dead man.

But that wasn't what Horace wanted to tell them so excitedly.

"Just imagine", he gasped, when he reached Sully, Daniel and Jake, "just imagine, Preston just sent a telegram to his father and requested for him to transfer $10 000 to Denver."

The three of them were speechless. Under normal circumstances they would have noticed, that Horace just broke his oath for the first time in his life and disregarded the postal secrecy, but compared to what Preston had done, this was virtually insignificant.

"he's waiting for a reply now", Horace added for the sake of completeness.

Then it occurred to him that he only could receive this reply when he was at the telegraph office and straightaway he ran to the way back.

As they stared after him still entirely dazed because of what they just heard, they spotted Preston who was heading for the bank. Sully didn't hesitate for a second and walked straight up to him.

"Preston, please wait."

Preston turned around to face him. It was unusual not to see his permanent challenging grin or not to expect, that in the very next moment he would drop an ironic line, but in fact he looked tense and serious.

"I'm in a hurry, Sully, I have to search for some documents and I…"

"Thank you, Preston", Sully said seriously and stretched out his hand.

Preston vacillatingly took the hand and shook it.

"It's not certain that I'll get the money", he said.

"But it's certain that you've sent that telegram", Sully answered.

Preston tried a hint of his usual grin and declared: "Horace should be careful that he doesn't let this new idea about his job become a habit."

And with that he disappeared into the bank.

Grace and Robert E. stood at the other side at the smithy and had watched that scene. Grace held Katie's hand and Sully, who at the sight of his daughter felt a touch of desperation again, ran over to her, took her in his arms and hugged her firmly.

"Sully", Grace said after she allowed him a short tender moment with Katie, "we, Robert E. and I, wondered if you shouldn't inform Matthew, Brian and Colleen in Philadelphia. I'm sure the children would want to know it."

Sully thought about it briefly, but then he shook categorically his head: "No, until they'd be here…". He didn't end the sentence and it also wasn't necessary to do that. Grace nodded and Robert E. said, to change the subject: "I'll get your horses ready."

"Thank you, Robert E." Sully said and handed Katie over to Grace with a heavy heart.

Just then Horace came running along again, once more waving with a piece of paper in his hand and smiling happily at Sully, but he headed straight for the bank.

All of the people, who were on the street now, were expectantly waiting.

After less than a minute Preston came out, closely followed by Horace, who was loudly shouting: "He'll get the money." Preston muttered admonishingly "Horace!" but he smiled too, and the rejoicing which came with Horace announcement was boundless. Daniel hugged Sully, Grace and Robert E. were wrapped in an embrace and held Katie between them. All the tension of the last hours made way for a huge relief.

Despite everything Sully and Jake decided to ride to Denver in any case and to see what they could find out; even if Michaela should get out of this affair undamaged, these abductors and murderers shouldn't escape unpunished.

So Robert E. had to prepare three horses and after half an hour Sully, Jake and Preston jumped into the saddle.

When they just were about to ride on, accompanied by the good wishes of the remaining inhabitants, Dorothy ran towards them.

"Sully", she called to him slightly breathlessly, "the Denver Post has answered. I know the name of the woman, who was abducted in Denver. Her name is Melissa St. Claire."

She smiled and than she said softly: "Just in case."


	9. Chapter 9

9.

Michaela couldn't sleep. She couldn't even think of it; despite the fact that her hands were no longer bound behind her back – they were now in front of her body, which was a little bit more comfortable, as far as one could speak of comfort.

She had even been given a blanket, in contrast to Hank, but even if they had provided her with a soft four-poster-bed, she couldn't have found peace.

A few hours ago the door of their prison had been opened a third time and the leader, as she called him secretly, had stepped inside again accompanied by the woman, had pulled out a knife, cut her ropes and had taken her outside with him.

In these few seconds Michaela had endured various emotions, from panic at the sight of the knife, to the surprise and relief when he cut the ropes, to the feeling of being torn between hope and fear when the man remarkably gently took her arm, drew her to her feet and led her to the door.

At Hank's scowl she recognized, that he was about to say something rash and she glanced imploringly at him. The less he attracted attention to himself, the longer he would survive, that was clear to Michaela, but it wasn't clear to her, how he could manage that.

Outside the man pushed her around the shack to a kind of wooden shed.

"We are no monsters, you know. You have the opportunity now to …to carry out your needs. But I'm warning you …don't have stupid ideas. First, you'd get nowhere anyway and second, at the smallest wrong move the man in there is dead. You have five minutes at the most."

With this he turned around and retreated several feet. Michaela didn't know, if she should be rather embarrassed or rather relieved, because of the circumspection of her abductors, who saw it as enough proof to be 'no monsters', to make a kind of a privy available to their prisoners.

After they had taken her inside and bound her again, Hank was led out of the cabin for a spell. A few minutes later they brought him back, tied him up once more and threw a blanket to Michaela.

That was all. They talked only about essentials, but there weren't further explanations about what they planed to do with them, how long they were going to hold them hostage or what the abductors aimed for. And Michaela didn't dare to ask questions.

Hank lay awake in his corner, too. He was angry and embittered, because he hadn't managed to grab the chance, which was presented to them, when they were briefly without ropes.

After they had brought back Michaela and removed his ropes as well, he could have seized the opportunity. The woman wouldn't have stepped in his way, he was very sure about that, and maybe he could have taken the two guys on. He should have tried at least, but unfortunately he had realized very quickly, that he wasn't nearly capable for that. Sure, his condition wasn't as bad as he played to the woman, but even when he got up, his head thumped like crazy and for a brief moment he felt so dizzy that he swayed.

The woman, after a glance to the leader to make sure, walked to him, put her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulder. For a fraction of a second Hank thought once more about an attack, but he again rejected this absurd and dangerous thought at once.

He cursed inside and was so angry at himself that at first it didn't even occur to him to enjoy the unexpected physical contact.

She supported him on the way back as well, but this time he drew her imperceptibly closer to him and she allowed it. It might have been a sort of compensation for the missed opportunity to escape, which he had replaced by another, but it had also been more. For a fleeting moment the borders became blurred and it hadn't been clear any more who held whom.

She had felt good, he thought, while he was lying there. If only she wouldn't wear this bag over her head all the time; he would really like to know, what she looked like, but he had already seen her eyes and they were incomparable. In his entire life he had never seen such eyes. Or felt such hands, and as far as that was concerned, he really had opportunities for comparison. Everything he had seen or perceived of her so far was overwhelming. Everything, however except for the fact, that she had helped to abduct him. Or rather: Michaela and him. Or actually only Michaela and him as an appendage, as it looked like.

Hank was well aware, that his life hung by a thread even more than Michaela's and he was also aware that they only had one chance to get out of this situation and that was this woman.

She had a soft spot for him, it didn't take very much for him to feel that.

Michaela on the other side of the room tossed and turned for the dozenth time. To sleep with her in the same room, or at least to try to do that, was something that Hank wouldn't have dared to picture in his wildest dreams and hadn't the situation been so bad he would have amused himself at that moment imagining, how he would report it in the most iridescent colours to Sully at their next meeting. But would there be a next meeting…?

In this very second, a terrible scream came from outside, and from not very far away.

Michaela was startled and Hank froze: It was the scream of a woman.


	10. Chapter 10

10.

He had watched her all evening with this look in his eyes, which she detested so much, that she was going to be sick. She had tried to pretend that she didn't notice, that she wasn't be dying of fear inside, but she had known, that he sensed it and that it made him even more excited.

This was the way he liked it most, when she was real scared of him, when he could feel powerful, the only master of her fate, her life, …her body. He considered her as his property and he could do with her what he pleased. Everything.

She knew what would come and she couldn't hope that there was anything that could save her from it. Warner would watch, unconcerned and indifferent as always. It didn't matter to him, what Cass did, as long as his plans weren't foiled and as long as Cass didn't break into Warners preserves. And after all it also didn't matter to Warner, what happened to her. The only things which made her somehow important to him were some useful skills she had and which served them well at their activities.

Warner judged the value of a human life only by the question, if it could be useful.

Actually it was a miracle that the abducted man was still alive. Strictly speaking he was superfluous and normally Warner got rid of such ballast real fast.

The most harmless explanation she could think of was, that he might have noticed, that this man meant something to her and that seemed to have a high entertainment value for him, but she didn't even dare to think of the other possible explanation.

Warner unlike his nephew was highly intelligent; he had very keen sensors and it was difficult to deceive him. Sometimes however she could manage it, just because Warner didn't really have any idea about what it's like to have feelings and the extent to which they could influence a human.

She didn't know how long she could keep Cass at a distance. She had pretended to have to collect herbs, to gain a little time. The processing of these herbs got her another hour, but it was pointless, she knew that only too well.

She tried to focus on something different, something completely different…

She had enjoyed that moment, when the man pulled her close to him, so much. She had wished that he would have never let her go again. For a few seconds she had felt so safe and sheltered, even if that had been completely ridiculous and nothing to do with reality, but she had felt that way. She didn't know any affectionate and protecting contacts, at least not men. Her mother, sure, she had protected and loved her, but that was a long time ago.

She closed her eyes to call her face in mind; that was something she did from time to time to find out how much she had already drawn apart from the life she lived back then, to find out if she could still imagine her mother. She could and somehow she believed, that this short tender touch, the brief moment of human warmth, which she felt a short while ago, helped her with this.

She became aware of the rustling of the leaves only in the very last second, and even before she could prepare herself inside for what followed, he had already brutally grabbed her arm and dragged her upwards to him. He took his time to look into her eyes, to read the horror in them. He grinned maliciously, held her tightly with one arm and grasped her face with his free hand. He ran his dirty fingers over her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth, until he pushed up her chin and pressed his mouth against her lips. Whatever he considered to be a kiss took her breath away and made her choke, but she doubted that he noticed at all. He began to meddle with her shirt, pulled it out of her pants and slid his hand along her naked skin beneath her undershirt until he felt her breasts. He laughed thrilled and tore open her shirt completely. Then he threw her to the ground.

She didn't dare to look up, when he stood above her, to look when he opened his pants and slowly lowered himself to her. She tried not to resist, when he greedily tore off her clothes, because every resistance made him even more excited and was useless anyway. She tried to think about something else, when he brutally thrust between her legs, forced her to open them. She tried, not to panic when he held her throat in a firm grip, to get over this nauseating, repulsive panting at her nape and in her face, without vomiting.

She tried not to feel the pain his cruel fingers left behind on her skin, when he brutally grabbed her everywhere. She tried not to listen to his murmuring "Right, you slut, that's the way you like it, isn't it. That's what you want, you damned bitch."

She simply put up with everything he did to her, if he took her from the front or from behind, if he hit her, choked her, she tried to simply endure it until it was over.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Warner sitting there leaning against a trunk and smoking a pipe. He didn't take any notice of them, although they were only separated by about twelve feet.

"And now, sweetie", Cass' voice whispered ominously to her ear, "and now we are going to do something completely new." He straightened up, so that he sat straddling on her, leant to the side and reached for something in his jacket pocket.

He smiled and said: "I guess, you'll like it."

Then she saw the knife…


	11. Chapter 11

11.

Sully, Jake and Preston had been riding half of the night, had rested for a couple of hours to cover the last stretch to Denver in the early hours of the morning.

At about eight o'clock in the morning they arrived, and since Horace had sent a telegram to the marshal the evening before to announce their early arrival, they could assume they were expected.

Since Preston had to wait anyhow until the bank opened, he accompanied the two others to the marshal's office.

The marshal, there was no better expression, was a commanding figure. Very tall, slightly corpulent, but still very agile looking, with imposing and extensive movements and a personality which let nobody doubt his authority.

He greeted them with great matter-of-factness, didn't linger over opening words for a long time and got straight to the point.

"Well, I received already a few telegrams on that matter yesterday", he said, "But, of course, you ought to tell me again in-depth what happened in your town."

Sully immediately described the events of the previous day; he tried to remain calm and to concentrate just on the pure facts. At the end he showed the marshal the note with the ransom demand.

He examined it for a long while and nodded: "Well, there is no doubt about it for me, these are the same abductors as in the case of… as in the local case, even the places of the handing over are corresponding." Sully had the impression that the name nearly slipped out of him.

"Unfortunately we didn't get very far with our investigations. These bastards know their business perfectly."

"But you had a witness", Sully objected, "the abducted woman has survived; she came back, didn't she." He imploringly looked at the marshal, as if he could force him to tell him something hopeful this way.

The marshal looked down and sighed deeply. "Yes", he said, and it sounded bitter, "she came back, but not as the same person as before. Nobody could ever persuade her to reveal, what they had done to her. She has hardly ever spoken a word until today. She didn't consent to an examination. Maybe they raped her, nobody knows. She is a physical wreck and so is her husband."

Sully was numb from what he heard. Even if they got the money it wouldn't save Michaela, not really. Jake and Preston were shaken too.

But Sully didn't want to give in that fast, that couldn't be all that the ride to Denver got them even more hopelessness; he couldn't accept that, for the sake of Michaela.

"Have you tried to talk to that woman, have you really tried?"

The marshal looked at him, understanding, but compassionately. "Sure, we have tried it over and over again, until we realized, that it was only a torment for her."

"But couldn't you make it plain to her, that she could save the life of other women with her testimony, that it's not only about her."

The marshal sighed deeply once more. "You don't understand, Mr. Sully. You can't make anything plain to her." He emphasized every single word of the last sentence and looked insistently in Sully's eyes. Then he stood up, turned away and took a few strides through his office.

"We made the last attempt, after the affair that happened in Manitou", he said all of a sudden, "the abduction, where there was a dead man and where the woman…", he left it unspoken, "you know, what I mean." Sully swallowed.

"We told her that this time there were dead people", the marshal continued, "and that it was in her hands, whether or not we could get onto the trail of these monsters. She collapsed, crying and screaming, but she didn't… say a single word."

A long silence filled the room. Finally Sully got up and Jake and Preston followed.

"I wish, I could have helped you", the marshal declared from the bottom of his heart and held out his hand to Sully.

Sully nodded silently, took the hand of the marshal briefly, than quickly turned away and left the room.

Outside on the street Jake took Sully's arm: "Sully, Michaela is a strong woman, she will survive this. We'll get the money and she'll get free."

Sully didn't react. Jake meant it well, he wanted to encourage him, he knew that, but these were only empty meaningless words nevertheless.

Preston cleared his throat. "Jake is right, Sully", he said, "first, the most important thing is that we get the money so that Michaela stays alive. And I suggest I go straight to the bank now and take care of that."

They still couldn't make out if Sully actually listened to them, but Jake said: "All right, Preston, in the meanwhile perhaps we'll go and get something to eat."

"I can't eat anything now", Sully's voice was husky and dismissive. Jake grabbed him by the shoulders with both hands, shook him slightly and snapped: "You won't let yourself go like this, Sully. And you have to eat something. And if you are not hungry, you force yourself, OK?" Never in his life had Jake talked to Sully like this, probably to nobody. Actually he wasn't the kind of man, who incited people or had serious talks with them, he more or less let things take their course, without being too involved. Maybe that was the reason why Sully was so astounded, that he only murmured a soft "Ok" and went with Jake and Preston without further resistance.

In front of an imposing house with the words "City-Bank" over the entrance Preston left them and went into the building. Sully and Jake went a few doors down the street until they reached a small restaurant, where they wanted to meet Preston again later.

Jake ordered a substantial breakfast from a friendly young waitress and Sully let him have his way. They said scarcely anything, while they were waiting for Preston.

After about half an hour Preston walked through the door and from his facial expression they could tell, that he had no good news.

"What's up?" Jake instantly asked.

Preston sat down and said with a slightly depressed voice: "The money isn't there yet."

"What does that mean?" Jake persisted, while Sully alarmed straightened up in his chair.

"There are certain difficulties with the transfer", Preston nervously explained, "it's not that easy with such a large amount. There are several security checks and of course so much money isn't at hand just like that."

"In a bank?" Jake asked puzzled, "why should it be that in such a large bank the money isn't at hand?"

Preston was so tense that he dishevelled his hair. "Because … that's not so easy to explain. A bank has only got a certain amount of cash available, and there are other people as well, who are depending on getting cash…"

"But this is an emergency. How many people are there in town, who have to get hold of ransom money", Jake was outraged.

"That's exactly what I explained to them", Preston angrily relied, "it just takes a while, but we'll get the money." With a look at Sully he added, "Certainly, I'll take care of it."

Sully looked at him for long time. Actually this was incredible; there he was sitting with Jake Slicker and Preston A. Lodge, of whom he had never had a very high opinion, of whom he had assumed for years that everything they really cared about was the question, of how they could gain an advantage. And now…

"It's all right, Preston", he said, "thank you."

Then, like in a sudden impulse, he got up, went over to the waitress at the bar and exchanged some words, which the other two men couldn't understand. After a little while he came back.

"I know where Melissa St.Claire is living."

"What?" Jake asked in surprise, "you surely don't want…"

"I have to", Sully interrupted him, "I can not rely on getting the money, and I can not rely on the possibility that, in the case that we got the money, Michaela would come back unhurt. I have to find out something about these abductors. I have to know who I have to deal with. I have to talk to Melissa St.Claire."


	12. Chapter 12

12.

There came light through the cracks between the planks which were nailed at the window.

So it was already morning. Michaela couldn't believe that she had obviously fallen asleep eventually. She remembered the night before with a shudder, the bloodcurdling scream and the dead silence after that.

With a glance over to Hank she saw, that he was awake too, even wide-awake. He was lying on his back with open eyes, and stared at the musty ceiling.

"Haven't you slept a bit?" Michaela asked carefully.

"Yes, I have", he growled, without looking at her and he sounded almost guilty. After he had heard the scream, he had tried in panic to get rid of his ropes, to free himself to be able to do something, but of course it had been hopeless. He didn't want to imagine what could have happened. What if she was dead? He had seen her as a chance to get out of here, but that was not what tortured him. He just couldn't bear the thought that something terrible had happened to her, that the two men had done something to her. He continually saw her eyes in his mind's eye, over and over again.

He sat up and seriously looked at Michaela. "We have to get out of here, Michaela."

Michaela, who was astounded, raised her eyebrows and gave a slightly amused laugh: "Oh, really? And I'm sure you can tell me right away, how we are going to manage it."

"I don't know yet", Hank declared impatiently, "we just have to think about it."

Michaela scrutinized him. He looked worried and nervous; it was almost as if he had only last night become aware about what had happened to them.

"You are worried about that woman, aren't you", she asked bluntly.

He didn't answer, probably because he knew, that he couldn't fool her anyhow; instead he stared at his bound hands which condemned him to helplessness.

Michaela had known Hank for quite a while. He never made a great effort to cover his bad sides, on the contrary, he often took great pleasure in shocking and snubbing people with them. But through all the years she had also occasionally experienced another side, one, which he tried to hide as carefully as possible, so as if it was something to be ashamed of to have a heart.

Michaela was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts, and Hank also looked uncomfortably towards the door, when there was some noise audible from outside.

The bolt was moved and the door pushed open, so that the sunlight glaringly broke the gloominess of the room and the two men came inside. The leader came first, the other one stayed at the entrance.

"I hope you've had a pleasant sleep", the leader said and with this sonorous voice of his he sounded like an assiduous hotelier, who wants to give his guests an appetite to come back the next year.

However he didn't really seem to wait for an answer and continued: "I can imagine that you have a few questions by now." Actually he had only talked to Michaela and looked at her encouragingly. "Feel free to ask", he said once more, when she hesitated, rather distracted by their abductors' sudden willingness for communication than encouraged. But then she took heart and asked what they intended to do with them, how much longer they wanted to hold them captive and what the abductors were aiming for.

The leader answered as precisely as she had asked.

"In any case I can assure you, that everything will be over the day after tomorrow at the latest, one way or another. We left a ransom demand for about $10 000 behind and if the money arrives at the Silent Creek tomorrow, we'll set you free the day after tomorrow."

"$10 000?" Michaela frantically exclaimed and forgot completely about her careful restraint, "You might as well kill us at once… what you're probably intending to do anyway I suppose, if you don't get the money."

"We'll see about that", the man said soberly, "we always proceed with the assumption that it will be possible to organize the money. As I said, tomorrow we'll know more."

Michaela gave him an angry look, but he had already turned away.

Before he could walk outside the harsh sound of Hank's voice stopped him: "And what are you going to do with me?" he asked and it only very remotely sounded like a challenge. Michaela held her breath. The leader however didn't even bother to look at Hank.

"What I said, goes for both of you", he said in a cool tone and he repeated: The day after tomorrow everything is over."

Hank looked at him piercingly; he had absolutely heard the undertone in that last sentence and was quite clear about what it meant for him. Michaela might have a chance to get out of this alive, but he certainly did not; not if things went by these criminals.

The leader finally turned to leave, but before he walked through the door he said: "I'm sure you are hungry; you'll get something to eat right away." Then he disappeared and his partner followed and bolted the door.

"Of course, we'll get something to eat", Michaela remarked sarcastically, "I mean they are no monsters."

Hank laughed scornfully. "In any case now we know how much time we have left to make off from here."

Michaela groaned irritably, rolled her eyes and refrained from answering.

"I know what you think, Michaela, but sometime an opportunity will arise for sure, we just have to seize it then and we have to agree with each other on that…"

He paused in the middle of the sentence, because there was again the noise of the bolt. As always, when that happened, both looked expectantly at the door.

The person, who came in carefully balancing two cups and two plates, was small and delicate and the covered sight of her suddenly caused Hank's heart to beat so fast, as no such a scantily clothed woman had ever done. She was alive…


	13. Chapter 13

13.

Sully and Jake were standing in front of the door of a big and distinguished house. The soft ringing of the bell called a servant into action, who politely enquired about their concern. After Sully had mentioned their names and explained that they had to talk to the master of the house, the man retreated for a short time then came back and invited them to come in.

He led them into a room, which was apparently the office of Mr. St.Claire.

In the middle of the room there was an impressive writing desk, in front of it two big and comfortable armchairs and it was obviously Mr. St.Claire who was sitting behind it, a middle-aged man, tall, slender, with short brown hair, slightly hollow cheeks and a friendly albeit tired looking smile.

"Henry told me something about urgent matters. Well, as far as I know we haven't dealt with each other so far, but if you tell me, what it is about, I will of course try to help you."

Sully immediately understood that there was an obvious misunderstanding between them. He naturally assumed that Sully and Jake were clients.

After he had shaken the hand of the man and had taken a seat in one of the armchairs, Sully cleared his throat and said: "Mr. St.Claire, I really hope indeed that you can help me, but it's not about a business matter, but about a very personal one."

Then he told him about Michaela's abduction, the ransom demand and that they had heard that there had been two other such cases previously.

Sully certainly had the feeling, that Mr. St.Claire was completely reluctant inside to listen to him for only one more second, that everything in him rose in protest against what caused him to remember what he and most of all his wife had suffered, but nevertheless he was still, and listened until Sully ended.

"And that's why I have to talk to your wife, Mr. St.Claire. If there was another way to get onto those criminals' tracks I would walk it and leave you alone, but there isn't."

The man behind the desk seemed to pine away, his vacant eyes stared into space, the smile had disappeared from his face long ago and the only thing that remained was the tiredness of a man who'd had to bear too much.

"You have no idea what you ask for,… you have no idea. I don't know anymore, how often they had tried to persuade my wife to reveal anything; the marshal, physicians and of course I have tried myself too. I wanted to know, what happened to her, so that we could live with it… somehow…, but every time she resisted more and every time she seemed to …to decrease, if you understand what I mean. And the last time, when she found out about that killed woman, it was the worst. I just don't want to torture her any more. I want to keep what I still have in her now."

Sully swallowed and replied: "I want to keep my wife too, Mr. St.Claire. Put yourself in my place for just one second and then tell me, if you still want to refuse me the conversation with your wife."

Their eyes met and both recognized the own desperation in the face of the other, and a kind of understanding that no other person could ever have.

Mr. St.Claire got up, breathing heavily yet determined, and said with a faint and resigned voice to Sully: "Please, follow me." But when Jake stood up too, he turned to him and said: "Excuse me, but I believe it would be better if only Mr. Sully came with me. I will tell Henry to bring you a cup of coffee, if you like."

Jake nodded and let himself sink back into the armchair, while Sully left the room with Mr. St.Claire.

They climbed a flight of stairs and then went into a kind of parlor.

There was a woman sitting in an easy chair placed near to a small tea table, who was working on a piece of embroidery. She must have been about Michaela's age, but actually it was difficult to guess. She had a young face, but it looked emaciated like the face of an old person. Her hair was dark blond and full and it was twisted into a loose knot at her nape, but it was interwoven over and over with grey strands.

There were faint signs, that Mrs. St.Claire had once certainly been a beautiful woman, but it seemed that a permanent hunted and worried expression, that didn't leave space for beauty, had been buried in her face.

When her husband entered the room with Sully, she looked up from her needlework, no smile on her face, no greetings on her lips.

"Melissa", her husband said lovingly and did his best to sound calm and quiet, "I want to introduce you to someone. This is Mr. Sully, he came from Colorado Springs to…" he hesitated for a fraction of a second, when he noticed that his wife immediately started to breath faster, "to tell us something", he finished the sentence. Mrs. St.Claire already looked alarmed and Sully felt as if he was walking on a very thin layer of ice, which would crack with the first wrong step

At first he didn't know how to begin so as not to frighten her straightaway and not to make any further efforts senseless.

Melissa St.Claire tensely looked at him, but her husband had eyes only for her and suddenly Sully knew where he had to begin.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

On her walk to the wooden shed, which they were allowed to take this morning again, Michaela had registered that the sun had already been climbing high up to the treetops.

She had lost all sense of time and had no idea, whether only one hour or several hours had passed since the woman had brought them that so called 'breakfast', which had consisted of a strange tea and a crust with a piece of dried up bacon.

Michaela felt peculiarly feeble, not exactly tired or dopey, but every single step, she had to make, cost her immense effort, as if there were weights hanging on her feet. She was even glad, when she could sit down on the floor in the shack again. However when she watched Hank afterwards, she realized that he apparently had the same difficulties. His walk was shuffling; he nearly couldn't lift his feet from the floor.

After his guard had brought him back, tied him up again and then had left the room, Michaela murmured to him: "Hank, something's wrong with us."

"You don't say, Michaela! 'Cause if everything was right, I'd have just smashed that guy's damned flour-bag-face in", he growled back.

"No, that's not what I mean", Michaela replied. "Don't you have the feeling that you can't move properly?"

Hank groaned. "That's exactly what I said just now. If I could move as I'd like to, we would have taken off by now. They must have given us something"

"In that tea", Michaela added affirmatively, "I thought at once that it smelled very strange."

Hank grinned mockingly. "When it goes by that, Michaela, nobody should ever take a tea from you either."

"Very funny, how good to see that at least you haven't lost your sense of humour."

"And what a pity that you don't have a sense of humour you could lose.", Hank casually countered.

Michaela snorted with indignation. "Well, I never… Just because I don't have any sense for silly jokes at the moment, that doesn't mean that I have no sense of humour. Maybe I don't have your kind of humour, but even if you won't believe it, I don't consider that as a fault."

"Of course not", Hank ironically teased. "You know what, Michaela? You should be glad that I, as you call it, haven't lost my sense of humour, 'cause I still got a worse hand than you in this affair and that I got into that mess in the first place actually is all your fault anyway."

"What?" Michaela flew off the handle.

"Yeah, if you hadn't insisted on that stupid examination that was completely unnecessary, I wouldn't have come to the clinic at all."

"And if you, like every normal person, had been in time for your appointment and hadn't come earlier it wouldn't have happened either. And apart from that: none of my examinations are unnecessary, I just care for my patients and I'm…"

"All right, all right, Michaela", he interrupted her angry flow of words "from the looks of it, I'll need another appointment with you yet anyway, in the case that we get out of here", he smiled at her conciliatorily and her anger disappeared. Actually, she had to admit to herself that she was exceedingly grateful not to be alone in this situation, and that Hank diverted her. He enraged her, and it was still better to be furious than to be anxious. But she was also worried about him; he was completely right, he was far more in danger than she was, because in the case that they paid the ransom for her, … Nonsense! It was absolutely impossible, that Sully could scrape together so much money and from that point of view they were equally in danger. The only chance to be rescued was that Sully would find them. She knew, that he would leave no stone unturned to find and to free her. But how on earth would he know where to begin with the search and also time was limited. Maybe Hank was really right when he placed his hopes in that woman. Michaela had no idea what he had in mind, but his mood had immediately changed this morning, after the woman had entered the room.

She looked over to him, but he had closed his eyes in the meantime and seemed to be dozing. She was slightly drowsy herself, too. Whether that was the effect of the drug they obviously had been given, or simply came from the lack of sleep and the mental exhaustion, she couldn't tell.

She was about to doze off, when she heard the unmistakable noise of horse hooves; horses, at least two of them, which moved away.

Hank was roused as well, and listened intently for further noise that could have revealed to them whether they had been left alone or if there was still someone there.

Michaela's heart beat wildly and Hank saw the opportunity he waited for. He struggled to his feet and made an attempt to jump with bound legs to the door, but somehow it was as if there was an invisible force, which held onto his legs: His body swung forward and his feet just remained on the same point, which caused him a painful fall on his elbows. He swore so furiously, that normally Michaela would have blushed with embarrassment, but this time she only watched Hank's new efforts to get up on his feet with bated breath.

He just didn't want to accept that his legs refused to obey and this once-in-a-lifetime chance threatened to pass.

Hank stood in the middle of the room now and Michaela just had decided to follow his example and was about to get up, when the bolt was pulled back and the door was pushed open. The barrel of a rifle aimed directly at Hank's chest.

"I wouldn't do that", a soft female voice warned. "Sit down again." It sounded more like a request then like a threat, but Hank stared at her aghast. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't have been so wrong.

"Get a move on", she urged him and gave him a soft push with the gun. He obeyed, lowered himself to the floor and while sitting, crawled back to his place at the wall.

The woman took down the gun, shut the door behind her and sat down on one of the chairs.

"The others are gone. They have to take care of some things and left me here as a guard; so, please don't make trouble, because if you did, I would get into trouble too. And anyway it doesn't make sense to do something, because the tea you got paralyzes you for the next few hours."

"In every meaning of the word", Michaela said angrily.

The woman looked at her and said seriously: "I'm sorry. I can't help it, believe me."

"Why are you actually talking to us so suddenly? You haven't said anything up to now, have you?" asked Michaela, who wanted to keep the conversation alive.

The woman breathed shortly and fast and was indecisive. She looked at the gun that she had placed on the floor between her legs.

"Even the others have the opinion, that it doesn't make much sense to still pretend that I am a man…. You must have heard me last night."

"What happened?" Michaela asked.

"Nothing", the woman said.

"But it didn't sound like nothing", Michaela persisted.

"Leave her alone, Michaela" Hank suddenly interfered. He had already forgotten the barrel which was aimed at him and he only heard the warm sound of her voice; and again he was sure, that they wouldn't have to expect any danger from her. On the contrary, she was probably in danger herself and she really didn't have to explain to _him_ what had happened to her in the night. He had a vivid idea of what men could do to women and Michaela wouldn't want to know that for sure.

The woman looked at him, their eyes met and for a few seconds they held this contact until she turned away.

"What I don't understand is", Michaela picked up their conversation again, "how can a woman have the heart to be associated with such criminals, and on top of that, when she evidently isn't treated any better than their victims."

"You don't _have_ to understand that" was the short answer.

"Because we won't live long enough to be important anyway?" Michaela kept on provoking, "Fine; you might as well talk about it as frankly as possible since we won't be able to tell anyone anyway - that you are a woman and that you are mistreated by your buddies and that…" She didn't go on, because the woman got to her feet with one leap and pointed the gun straight in Michaela's face.

"Shut up", she gasped out and Michaela noticed even in her fright that she bent slightly, as if the abrupt hasty movement had caused her pain. Then the woman turned away and left the cabin in a hurry.

Hank shook his head: "Great, Michaela", he cynically said, "really masterly, so sensitive; I think, with this you have brought us a huge step forward… into the grave."

"I'm sorry", Michaela whispered.

"She didn't do nothin' to you, she was kind, she cared for me and it's obvious she has to suffer under these bastards, so why do you talk to her like that?" Hanks voice was louder than necessary.

"I don't know, I…"

"But to accuse me, that I act without thinking… You are really good! Michaela Quinn, the woman who always find the right words." Hank snorted with rage and Michaela could have kicked herself. Just what had into her? Why did she have to provoke her this way? Perhaps the woman could have really helped them, but she had damaged everything now.

But then all of a sudden the door opened again and the woman came back.

She brought along the gun, but she placed it right beside the door. Michaela just wanted to open her mouth to apologise, when the woman grabbed the white flour bag which hid her face and slowly pulled it down from her head. She was an Indian.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

Sully stuck his hand in the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a picture that he always carried with him and that showed him together with Michaela and the children.

"This is my family", he said and walked slowly closer to Mrs. St. Claire passing her the photograph.

"The eldest three children are adopted; my wife took them in after their real mother asked her to on her deathbed. Although she didn't know anything about children then; only shortly before this she had come from Boston to Colorado Springs as a doctor, and she was just fighting her way through in a rough-and-ready-manner. Of course, the people there didn't confide in her at the beginning, a woman as a doctor, and here in the west. But in the course of time they realized, that she was very capable. They have come to appreciate her, having seen, how she cares for the people and how selfless she is while doing so. Almost everybody calls her Dr. Mike, that's an abbreviation of Michaela. She has saved the life of more than one person in our town and that's not all. There is nobody, who doesn't respect her just as there is nobody whom she doesn't respect."

Sully made a little pause and saw Melissa St. Claire looking at the picture, then he continued:

"We married after we had known each other for about three years, although I basically knew the first day, in the first moment when I looked at her, that she was the woman I would love for the rest of my life. But we were very different … had to deal with our different pasts; so it took a while until we finally admitted that we were much more for each other than just friends.

A year after the wedding this young lady was born, Katie", he pointed at the little blond girl that Michaela held in her arms. "She is two and a half year old now. Her brothers are at her sister Colleen at the moment, who is living in Philadelphia with her husband and studying medicine, just like her Ma."

Sully stopped his explanation and looked straight into the eyes of Melissa St. Claire, who avoided his eyes and fixed her gaze on the photograph.

"Mrs. St.Claire, my wife Michaela, the mother of these children was abducted yesterday at noon."

The lips of the woman began to tremble, but Sully continued: "There is no track. The only thing we know is that they are the same abductors, as in your case and as in the case of that woman in Manitou. They have made the same demands, connected with the same threat."

The woman closed her eyes, where irrepressible tears welled up now; her hands which still held that picture trembled uncontrollably.

"You can help us, Mrs. St.Claire", Sully implored.

"NO!" She screamed it out with all her fervour and desperation, like a hunted animal that was finally trapped, unable to flee.

"Please, Mrs. St.Claire, you are our only chance"; Sully begged and his composure began to crumble as well.

The woman sobbed loudly and rocked herself back and forth in her chair.

"Mrs. St.Claire, my wife is still alive, I still have the chance to help her", there were tears flowing from Sully's eyes now too. Never in his life had he felt so powerless as in the presence of this woman, who kept on muttering "no, no, no, no,…" and who was, in all her pain and desperation, as hard as a rock. She had it in her hands to help him; he couldn't leave that room without an answer. He just couldn't.

"Please, Mrs. St. Claire, I beg you, please help me", he whimpered. "She is still alive, can you hear me? She is still alive".

Her husband couldn't stand the scene any longer. He took Sully, who was kneeling in front of Mrs. St. Claire, by the shoulder and said softly and pleadingly: "Please, go. It's no use anyway."

Sully felt as if somebody was going to tear out his heart.

He tried to take deep breaths, and reached out for the picture which Mrs. St.Claire still held in her hands, but she didn't let it go. She held it quite firmly as if this picture was a sheet anchor she could cling to. And all of a sudden she looked at him with eyes so helpless and painful, that it was hardly bearable.

"There were three", she whispered and her voice was trembling and so low, that it seemed she was even afraid to hear herself. But Sully understood every single word and his heart began to race.

"I never saw their faces, because… they were wearing such white… white flour bags over their heads," she continued haltingly. "But one of them was very tall and strongly built, the… the second was tall as well, but slimmer … and the last one was small and slight and never said a word. The strong one was the boss, the others always did, what he said."

Sully held the eye contact: "Can you remember something particular?"

She nodded: "Yes, this man, the boss, had a very deep voice …it was pleasant …actually … and he was also… friendly…" She broke off and suddenly sobbed again.

"But that was all a fake, he was …. he was a … a monster."

"Can you remember where they held you captive?" Sully asked and tried to sooth her a bit with this objective question.

"I don't know where it was. I was unconscious, when they took me there, and when they took me away, I was blindfolded. It was a cabin, but very decayed, with rotten wood and so on. It must have been in the middle of the forest, but I don't know more."

"Mrs. St. Claire", Sully hesitated, since he didn't know how to put his next and last question into words. "What…" he stopped and their eyes met again and she realized what he wanted to know.

She looked at her husband, at Sully, at the floor; she seemed to search for something in the room that could help her to express what she experienced. Her mouth trembled and twitched. The wrinkles on her forehead dug deeply into her skin and she was breathing so fast, as if she had just run a great distance, but finally she spoke nevertheless:

"They said my husband had paid the ransom and they would set me free. But before they could do that, they would have to be sure, that I wouldn't talk about them. I told them, that I wouldn't and that I hadn't seen any of them, but they said that wasn't enough.

They had taken me to another place in the middle of the forest. And then they said, I would see now, what would happen, if they found just the tiniest indication somewhere, that I had told just the smallest detail about them.

They led me to a tree, where a man was bound; I didn't know who he was and neither did they. They had picked him randomly. And then…" She couldn't keep on talking and clapped her hands against her face, as though she could cover the terrible pictures of her memory this way. She breathed in and out heavily a few times and then she gasped out between her hands: "He scalped him."

Mr. St.Claire was pale with horror. He went to his sobbing wife and took her in his arms.

"They told me, if I said anything, they would find out, and then they would pick another person and send me his scalp, and asked if I'd want to live with that."

Sully took her hands in his own.

"Mrs. St. Claire, I swear that I will find these brutes. They will pay for what they have done. Don't be scared anymore."

She looked at him and said softly: "Save your wife."

"I will", Sully answered. He reached out his hand to Mr. St.Claire and said: "Thank you".

Mr. St.Claire shook Sully's hand and said: "I hope, what you have heard will help you. And…", he added moved, "I thank _you_."


	16. Chapter 16

16.

"My name is Wenona", the woman said as she tossed back her black shoulder-length hair, which played around her face in big curls, and lowered herself to the chair again.

With her incredible eyes, which in her narrow face with the high cheek bones were more captivating than ever, she sized up Hank, who looked as if someone had hit him over the head once again.

"I'm a Lakota", she went on and with a last sidelong glance to him she added: "At least half, the other half is white."

Michaela felt tempted to ask why she told them all this so suddenly, why she revealed her appearance to them, but she feared that she would say something wrong for a second time and that she would bring the woman to silence once again. So she stayed quiet and observed Hank's reaction instead. It would have been very interesting to be able to read his mind in this very moment. He had detested Indians all the days of his life, but he had clearly felt affection for that woman. What was going on inside him now?

Wenona would have liked to know that, too; she had noticed his shocked reaction and for a moment it had hurt more than everything she had to bear the night before. But what had she expected anyway, of course he had assumed that she would be a white women. She spoke the language of the Whites without the slightest accent and what else should have told him that she was an Indian. Half-Indian. But most of the Whites didn't find that any better. And apparently he was such a typical white man, and the tender embrace had meant nothing at all; it had been meant for someone else. Probably he would be disgusted afterwards at the thought that she had ever touched him.

But that didn't matter now, she had decided and she couldn't waste the remaining time with useless thoughts.

"You were right, when you said, that I was associated with those two", she said turning to Michaela, "but you were also wrong with what you said, because I have no other choice – I don't choose to be associated with them."

"I see", Michaela said.

"No, you don't", Wenona answered, "but I want you to see."

She looked serious and grieving and while she was talking Hank caught himself wishing so much that he could see her laugh if only once. She must have looked enchanting, when she laughed, if she ever had reason to. No matter if she was an Indian, she was the most beautiful and touching thing he had ever seen.

"My mother had been raped by a soldier of the Whites", Wenona began to tell and interrupted his thoughts.

"At least that's what she told the people in her village, only to me she confided, that she had loved my father and he had loved her. For one day."

She paused briefly before she went on: "My mother was a healer and she had been on the way to collect herbs, when she was snatched by two soldiers. They took her with them to their camp and they probably would have put her on some reservation, far away from her village, if it hadn't been for my father. He had seen her and he had felt compassion. He pretended that he wanted to have a little amusement with her - you know what I mean - and he took her with him to his tent. But they only talked to each other through the entire evening and for half of the night. And in the second half… I was created.

Before dawn he helped her to escape and they never saw each other again, but my mother knew even after all the years what he looked like and she described him exactly to me: He was very tall, with long blond hair and blue eyes; but I only got the curls from him." She looked at Hank, who was completely tongue-tied. "That was probably the reason why I prevented them from killing you at the clinic, because you look just as my father must have looked.

Hank gasped for breath. "But I ain't… it's impossible that I'm your …I never… I mean I have never…"

When she saw, how much she had discomposed him, she had to laugh: "No, of course you can't be my father, you are certainly much too young. "

She smiled at him apologetically, because of the misunderstanding, and he felt like he was melting away at the sight of that smile.

Wenona had noticed the change in him and she gladly saw that the shocked expression had disappeared from his face and he looked at her just like before again, when he hadn't known who and what she was. She forced herself not to pay attention to her thumping heart and kept on telling them:

"At first my mother only told the people in her village the fact that soldiers had captured her, but when she found out that she was pregnant, she invented the story of the rape; otherwise she would have been expelled. It was difficult enough for her as it was and for me too. Actually we were only tolerated and my mother survived and had her place in the village, because she was a very good healer and as such she was indispensable. She also taught me everything about it and she taught me the language of the Whites, because she wanted there to be something that would connect me with my father."

"Where did your mother learn the language of the Whites?" Michaela wanted to know.

Wenona smiled very slightly and said: "Not all the Whites have pushed themselves into the land of the Indians just like this and have driven them away, and not all Indians have resisted against the settlement of the Whites. Near to the winter quarters of our village a small settlement had been developed and Indians and Whites had been peacefully living next to each other for years. My mother even had white friends. Then there came more and more settlers and in the end the Indians were chased away by the army. But my mother never thought back to the army; she always thought back to her friends."

"She must have been a wonderful woman", Michaela said.

"Yes, she was... She died, when our village was ambushed. I was thirteen then and was captured with some other children. One of the soldiers saw me and asked the commanding officer, if he could have me as a playmate for his son. And so I came to that family. I was their servant and, as I said, the playmate for the son, who, however, turned out to be five years older than me, and he wanted to play different games with me, you know.

And of course the knowledge I had from my mother was also very useful for them. Incidentally for me as well, because it helped me to avoid ever becoming pregnant by that bastard.

A few years ago the brother of my 'foster father' turned up with many ideas of how to gain a lot of money; none of them had a lot to do with complying with the law. At first he only took … his nephew with him and tried out some smaller swindles, which didn't bring them very much aside from routine. Then it occurred to…" she avoided his name and simply said instead: "to this nice Uncle that I could probably be useful and so they took me with them. I had no choice, I still don't and I will never have one. I'm a Half-breed and neither accepted by the Indians nor by the Whites, so where should I go?"

"Did you make that tea this morning?" Michaela asked.

"Of course. It's difficult to get the exact dosage, so that the paralysis is only slight and doesn't last too long. And I also made the drug you were given together with the chloroform and which as a result caused a limited loss of memory. That means, you can't remember events which were a very short time ago."

Michaela didn't know if she should be impressed or indignant, but Wenona relieved her of this decision. "I'm not proud of this, particularly as my mother taught me these things to do good with them and not evil. But I just can't help it."

"Oh, yes", Hank interrupted her, "yes, you could."


	17. Chapter 17

17.

Sully sent a telegram with all information Melissa St.Claire had given them to Daniel in Colorado Springs. Maybe somebody knew what to do with it after all: Three men, one of them small, slight and silent or, as Sully rather assumed, two men and a woman, strangers in Colorado Springs who perhaps attracted the attention of somebody.

"That's really not all that much", Jake had said, after Sully told him everything.

"No, but we know much more than before: We know, there are three of them and I bet you any money you like that the third is a woman. We know they use a cabin to hold their prisoners."

"Wait a minute", Jake interrupted him, "they did it in Mrs. St. Claire's case, but how do we know that they didn't take Dr. Mike to another plac?."

"Because it's the same place for the handing-over as well, the Silent Creek, why should they bother themselves to find another place?"

"To cover up their tracks; they seem to be very clever in that respect."

Sully shook his head: "They take it as read that there are no witnesses; one woman is dead and they left a lasting intimidation on the other."

"All right then", Jake said, "but still the cabin could be anywhere."

"Not anywhere", Sully contradicted, "it is at least one or two hours away from the place of the handing-over. Not too close and not too far away. Apart from that, we know that it's in the middle of a tract of forest. The same with the second place where they took Mrs. St.Claire and which was probably not that far away from the cabin."

Jake was still sceptical. "Something else?"

Sully's expression darkened: "Yeah, I think so. I now believe that Hank is probably still alive", he made a brief pause and gave Jake a worried look. "Still", he then repeated meaningfully.

"What makes you think so?" Jake asked.

"Can't you think of the part they've intended for him, in the case that they act like the last time?" Sully asked him back and finally the truth began to dawn on Jake.

"Oh, my God", he whispered horrified, "even if we get the ransom money…"

"…it won't save him", Sully finished the sentence.

In that moment Preston came around the corner. He didn't look very satisfied and as Sully correctly suspected, the money still hadn't got there.

"It can't take much longer", Preston said and it sounded more as if he wanted to persuade himself, but Sully shook his head: "We can not wait any longer, we have to take the train otherwise we won't have enough time left. We have to be in Colorado Springs no later than the early evening."

Preston looked at him questioningly and Jake informed him of the latest news.

"The money alone doesn't help much; it can possibly win us some time, but we have to try to get onto the abductors tracks in any case", Sully explained.

Preston looked at him doubtfully; it sounded quite impossible to him.

"Why do we need the money then anyway?" he asked.

"Because the danger is even much greater, when the money isn't there. But when they get it, it'll give them a sense of security for the moment."

Preston was thinking about it for a few seconds and then he said: "All right, I will stay here and wait for the money; as soon as I have it, I'll ride back. You can take the train in the meantime."

Sully nodded but suggested that Jake should ride back with Preston, since they would be safer when there were two of them.

Preston had the question on the tip of his tongue: was Sully worried about his safety or the safety of the money on the trip? But he suppressed it. It wasn't the time for his usual sharp remarks. Instead he asked: "Where is the Silent Creek anyway?"

"The Silent Creek", Sully answered, "is only a spring actually, which disappears into a mere trickle. After the snow has thawed or if there is a lot of rain it becomes a real creek, which drains away again though, little by little. The spring lies north of the Pikes Peak about a three-hour-ride away from Colorado Springs."

"In a big tract of forest", Jake said meaningfully.

"Right", Sully confirmed and with a slight touch of resignation he added: "In a very big track of forest unfortunately."

The men were silent. No matter which way they looked at it, even with all the information they had got from Melissa St.Claire it was still like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Sully had to catch the 2 pm train and said goodbye to the other two with mixed feelings.

Against his better judgement he regretted having persuaded Jake to ride with Preston, because as he sat on the train, he could hardly stand the feeling that he would have to surrender to his own thoughts without any distraction for three hours. Thoughts, which confronted him over and over again with the imagination of losing Michaela in a way that was so gruesome, that everything in him cramped with horror. He had to find her. He just had to.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

"You could help us to get away", Hank said.

Wenona opened her dark eyes widely and looked at him appaled. "Do you have any idea, what they would do with me?"

He didn't think for long and said without hesitation: "You simply come with us."

"Simply?" Wenona repeated, "I simply come with you, right? And can you tell me what I'm supposed to do then?"

Hank was silent. What on earth should he say? He hadn't already given serious thoughts to that question, he had just said it without thinking, … no, not completely…, he really wanted to help her and he wanted to have her around, somehow…

When Hank didn't know what to say and only stared in her beautiful face, Michaela stepped in: "He is right, you can come with us. We'll find a solution. The two men will be caught with your help and then you won't have to be scared of them anymore. We will testify for you; we say that they only used you and that you have been in great danger yourself. You will see."

Wenona had listened to Michaela sceptically.

"You haven't answered my question: What am I supposed to do then? Live in Colorado Springs?"

"Why not", Michaela insisted.

"You know damned well, why not", Wenona countered, "because I'm a half-breed and on top of that, one who is hanging around with the worst criminals you can think of. These are not exactly qualities, which make you popular."

"You're mistaken." Michaela was not willing to give in. "The people will understand your situation and they will give you credit for saving our lives, believe me."

Wenona shook her head. "Even if I wanted to, have you forgotten that you aren't able to walk, at least not well enough to escape afoot."

"How much longer will the effect last?" Michaela wanted to know.

"At least two hours and then it will gradually wear off."

"And when will the others come back?"

"I don't know."

"What are they doing anyway?" Hank asked.

"They are preparing the place of the handing-over of the ransom and …", she faltered at the thought of what else they possibly might be doing at that moment , "and … other things."

"My husband doesn't have the money and there is nobody who could give it to him." Michaela said, trying to sound as quiet as possible. "So, they will kill us. Do you want to be jointly responsible for that? Do you want to spend all your life watching them committing one crime after another, supporting them and being tortured yourself, permanently living in fear? What kind of life could be worse? Anything is better than that."

Wenona was silent, but it was a helpless not a stubborn silence, and Michaela felt that her resistance gradually began to crumble.

Hank suddenly prepared to get on his feet again and Wenona watched him sceptically, but without interfering. When he was on his feet, he tried out – more carefully than before – what he was able to do. His legs weren't completely numb, but they seemed just not to obey him.

"Better leave it, it's pointless", Wenona told him. "Even if I removed your ropes, you could only move as fast as a snail."

"Let's try", he said and looked deep into her eyes. She wanted to avoid his eyes but she couldn't.

Even if she was really unsure of everything she did, and even if her actions had been mainly led by her fear for so long that she didn't know how it felt to do something out of free will, she was quite sure of one thing: she would never be able to watch them kill him. The limits of what she could bear had been set very wide during the last years, but that would be beyond any limits.

She stood up and went to him. Then she kneeled down, drew a knife out of her boot and cut the ropes. Michaela held her breath and watched Hank's attempt to walk. But it was miserable. Wenona had been right, he could only very slowly set one foot in front of the other and every time he tried to step up the pace by force, he almost lost his balance, because his legs couldn't come along with his body.

"Damn!" he roared so impetuously that Wenona was startled. He crouched down and propped his head desperately in his hands which were still bound. Wenona looked down at him worried and guilty.

They had demanded her to give that tea to their two prisoners; they wanted to play it safe, while they were away. But couldn't she have faked it, or made the tea weaker or just brewed something completely different.

No, they would have noticed when they had led them out, because that was the actual point of this action: to see if the tea had an effect. There was nothing she could have done.

Michaela thought feverishly and suddenly she had an idea.

"Wenona", she said, "to the most poisons there are antidotes. Isn't it possible to give us something that revokes the effect?

Hank raised his head and gave Michaela a delighted look. There was no question about it: even if she behaved a little bit clumsily sometimes, that woman really had a strong mind.

However Wenona was inconclusive: "There would be something", she said slowly, "but I would still have to produce it and that would take too long, especially if you add the period of time it would take for it to have an effect."

"How long?" Michaela wanted to know.

"I don't know; it depends on how quickly I found the ingredients, if at all."

"Never mind", Michaela said, "just begin. Right now."

Wenona hesitated again. What if the others came back earlier, if they noticed, that she wanted to help them to escape, if they saw the man without ropes on his legs? And what would happen, if she didn't do it?

She looked at Hank, who gave the look back expectantly. She should come with them, he had said. What if that was really possible, if she could leave this life behind at last and could instead … She didn't dare to think further; all that was beyond her imagination. Would he still look at her like this then?

Hank got up: "Please, Wenona", he said urgently but softly. She swallowed and said in a low voice: "Good." Then she quickly turned around and ran outside.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

After Daniel had received and read Sully's telegram, he instantly rounded up some people at the café to discuss the news. Robert E., Grace and Dorothy were already sitting there when Daniel arrived with Horace, and Loren came running from his store as well.

"Sully has found out something about the abductors; it's not very much, but maybe one or another of you might have noticed something after all, maybe strangers, who fit to that description and who behaved conspicuously", Daniel said and then he read the telegram aloud.

After the first announcement everybody had been expectant, but when they heard the content of the telegram, a perceptible disappointment spread out and it was Loren - of course – who first put it into words: "Two tall men and a woman or a boy? That's all? We could have thought of that ourselves, that there was more than one man; how could one man alone have managed to carry away Dr. Mike and not to mention Hank. And there are a lot of tall men and a lot of women too" he added grumblingly.

"One of the men had a noticeable deep, pleasant voice", Daniel remarked, but Loren gave a dismissive gesture: "Awwww, Daniel, that's a waste of time."

"Loren", Dorothy admonished, but inside she conceded that he was right; as much as she had wished, she couldn't see what these descriptions could bring. The others felt the same and the result was an awkward silence.

"I told you, that it isn't much, but it's better than nothing. We know there were three of them and that one of them was probably a woman. Just think about it once more, whether you really haven't noticed three strangers. Yesterday or even the days before. They must have planned and spied out everything." Daniels voice, as forcefully as he had spoken, revealed his hopelessness though. With a deep sigh he sank onto a chair and dishevelled his hair with one hand, the telegram still in the other.

Teresa Slicker went into the café accompanied by Reverend Johnson. They hadn't been informed by Daniel, because Teresa didn't spent a lot of time in the town, since the school was a bit out of the way and lately she was very occupied with their new house, to furnish it and to lay out a garden. And the Reverend, well, he was just blind and so he was rather out of the question as a witness.

They walked over to the group of depressed looking people and Teresa, deeply worried, immediately wanted to know, what had happened.

Daniel gave an account of that telegram, the content of which didn't seem to be much help to them though, and he handed the piece of paper to her. The Reverend asked her to read it aloud, which she instantly did. None of the others listened again, but when Teresa was finished, the clergyman was somehow taken aback and raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"What was that? Could you read it again, please?" he asked and Teresa complied with his wish, while the others exchanged questioning looks.

"A noticeable deep, pleasant voice…", the Reverend repeated slowly.

"I was sitting in the café two or three days ago and I heard a man with such a voice. He was clearly a stranger and he sat at the table next to mine. He had a very deep and sonorous voice. I thought, that this voice must sound wonderful while reading a sermon. But of course, I don't know if he was tall and strong."

The others stared at him in disbelief and Daniel was suddenly completely excited: "Do you remember to whom he was talking, or what he was saying?" he asked hopefully.

The Reverend nodded: "He must have been talking to Grace. He said: 'Your cake is really delicious, Madam'. That was all. I think he was sitting alone at the table."

Grace's eyes suddenly got huge: "Oh, my God", she yelled out and was all in a tizzy. "Oh, my God, yes, I remember. That must have been him. A tall, strong man. He had a grey, short fringe of hair and a short trimmed beard."

Immediately there was a stir in the entire group. From one minute to the next Robert E. could remember having seen that man, too. And he also remembered the wagon which he was driving and which was drawn by two horses, like a prairie schooner. "The wagon was fully loaded with blankets and such stuff."

"Carpets", said Loren, who gave the impression that he was thunderstruck. Everybody looked at him in astonishment.

"That must have been that carpet dealer, who talked to me yesterday morning. He wanted to offer me his goods", he said being mostly surprised himself by the sudden return of his memory.

"He did look like that and he had that deep voice, I can remember now. But I shook him off quite fast, firstly because I have my own suppliers and secondly because his goods were lying higgledy-piggledy in the wagon, so that I could practically smell the moth damage."

The atmosphere in the café changed in a flash. The faces, which had been apathetic and sad a short while before, lit up, the depressed silence gave way to an excited babble of voices.

"You said: yesterday morning, Loren?" Daniel wanted to make sure.

"Yes", Loren confirmed, "definitely. Later I was even annoyed by his wagon, because the horses were almost completely blocking the passage to the café and I had to make a detour and he was nowhere in sight."

"He blocked the passage?" Daniel asked with a forefeeling, "Which passage?"

"Well, the passage between your office and the …" he stopped, "and the clinic", he finished the sentence and pressed his hand to his mouth, shocked by the sudden realization. He didn't have to voice, what he thought. There was no doubt about it: The wagon was placed there for the purpose to carry away the victims of the abduction. However it wasn't quite clear, how two people could disappear completely unnoticed in this wagon.

"They must have used the back exit of the clinic under the stair" Daniel considered, "people took a long way around the passage to the café, like Loren, because the wagon was standing there as a barrier. The view from the café was obstructed by the hoarding and the horses. Could one have seen something from the smithy?"

He looked at Robert E. questioningly, who only sighed and said: "Maybe one could have notice something, but yesterday at noon I had to help Grace." And following Daniels look of incomprehension, Grace explained: "Yeah, well, yesterday of all days at noon my stove acted up. It smoked like mad. I was busy trying to fix it up all along. I couldn't have managed it without Robert E., and all the guest would have run away otherwise."

"Your stove smoked?" Daniel asked incredulously, "how come?"

"Well, I wondered that too. I've no idea", Grace answered baffled. "In any case I was completely busy with it."

"Which was probably the intention" Daniel concluded.

Gradually the picture of what had happened the day before was composed piece by piece.

I wasn't nearly complete and possibly it never would be, but in the meantime they knew a lot more than before.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

Wenona worked feverishly. She had actually found all the ingredients she needed and was about to cut up roots into small pieces and crush them with a stone to add them to a pulp of leaves from different plants, which was boiling in hot water. She had taken an hour so far and the tea would have to stand another ten minutes before it was ready. The effect, however, wouldn't begin for an hour, so the time would be very short. It was quite possible that Cass and Warner would come back before then, but even so, she just had to try.

This was probably the only opportunity that would come up; and also the only opportunity for her to escape this kind of life, because she had met people who would help her.

But what if it failed, if the others came back too early? Would they the kill the man and the woman, if the ransom money hadn't arrived? They would do that for sure. They hadn't hesitated to kill that other woman from Manitou. Warner hadn't wasted any time. He'd said, it didn't make sense to utter idle threats and then he had cold-bloodedly killed her. At least he hadn't scalped her alive, but had first stabbed her through the heart with a knife. How incredibly 'human' he could be, she thought sickened and remembered that man, who hadn't been that lucky. Who had become the leading man in a cruel play, just because they'd wanted to intimidate the wife of that businessman. His screams were still sounding in her ears and were mixed with those of the horrified woman.

She had managed not to vomit, with all her willpower she had resisted the urge to do it, but she had trembled like a leaf and cold sweat had been running down her body. Fortunately neither of the two others had paid attention to her. Warner had been busy with his job, which he had done quietly and concentrated as always, as if he had been working on a complicated sort of carving. And Cass had been watching at him, an admiring grin on his brutal face. Later he had asked Warner if he might try it next time, but Warner had preferred to take care of the business with the woman from Manitou himself. Maybe this time…

After she had powerfully stirred the boiling liquid a few times, Wenona waited, nervously starting at every noise.

But ten minutes passed without even a hint of the clatter of horses.

She poured the tea in two cups, spilled the rest of it together with the remaining herbs into the bushes and went towards the cabin.

Hank and Michaela were already waiting, full of tension. They had spent the meantime mainly in silence; only now and then had Hank checked the mobility of his legs, which had made Michaela even more anxious.

Wenona first made her way to Michaela to give her a cup and then she went to Hank. After she had given him the tea, she pulled a rope out of her pocket and began to wrap it around his legs. Immediately he set the cup aside, drew up his legs and held onto her hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

"Tying you up again", she said, "when the others come back and your legs are not bound, what do you think will happen?" She looked at him imploringly and her eyes were all he actually perceived. Why the hell did he have to meet this woman right here of all places in the world? The thought of probably being in great mortal danger made him, strangely enough, much less nervous than her nearness and the fact that his bound hands hindered him from just drawing her into his arms.

Wenona saw in his eyes, that he hadn't listened to what she said, that he - at least at the moment – was far away from thinking about any danger. They just looked at each other for several seconds, until she felt his fingers gently stroking over the back of her hand. Then he let her go, took the cup and leaned his back against the wall again, almost resigned. She put him on the rope like she had seen Cass do it and she urgently hoped inside that she could cut them soon again to finally run away.

They had to wait another half an hour, then they could risk it; then perhaps both of them would be quick enough to dive into the thicket of the woods and to reach the next town from there or at least the next ranch to get help, maybe horses or a gun; in that rifle the men had left with her, were only two bullets as a precaution.

Wenona never prayed. She didn't know in what or in whom she should believe. When she was living with her tribe they had called Wakan Tanka, but what was the use? When she was living with the Whites, she had heard of God and she had always been surprised about the fact, that there was a huge difference between the belief of the Whites and the way as they actually lived. If there was a God, would he really put up with this?

No, Wenona was quite sure that there was no higher power which took care of the human beings on earth. If there were gods, they would have been very indifferent gods.

But her mother did care about her and _her _spirit - that was the deep belief, Wenona clung to with all her strength - was always around her. To her Wenona sent her quick prayer, her request for help, for the opportunity to save the two people, while she was tightening and knotting Hank's ropes.

"This tea tastes almost worse than the one from this morning", Hank said jokingly to cheer up Wenona a little bit, whose tension he felt.

"In any case you won't complain about _my_ teas so fast after this experience, Hank", Michaela stated, and she slightly shuddered too, when she put down her cup.

Wenona raised her head and smiled; in passing she had heard his name for the first time. Hank…fitted him somehow.

"Michaela makes such Indian stuff, too, you know", he explained and beamed at her. He just couldn't help it, when he saw her smiling.

"Indian stuff?" she retorted and gave him a mocking reproachful look.

"Well, yeah, teas, that this Indian has taught her. Not even bad", he mumbled sheepishly.

Wenona looked at Michaela in surprise and Michaela told her about Cloud Dancing and that he had taught her a lot of the things he knew as a medicine man of his people.

Wenona was deeply impressed.

"Which herbs did you use for this tea", Michaela wanted to know, but Wenona just smilingly shook her head.

"That medicine man gave a great gift to you, because normally we don't share our knowledge, except with someone who is worthy, who we have great confidence in and have known for a long time. He must have considered you worthy and I'm sure you are, but I don't share my knowledge. It's all I have."

Michaela nodded understandingly.

Wenona got up and went to the door. Her body felt like thousands of ants were wandering up and down it, because she was that nervous and it got worse from minute to minute.

It was perfectly quiet outside, not even the leaves on the trees were rustling; only now and then one could hear a bird. No hoofs of horses.

How much time would they need? The Silent Creek was easily an hour away; if they were lucky the men had also ridden to Manitou to get supplies and then it would take much longer.

She had no idea, exactly what they intended to do; she didn't even know how long they had to stay at the Silent Creek, since she had never been there with them of course. She had never been there at all. It was Warner who fetched the money, if it was really there, while Cass and she were waiting with the victims.

The time stretched so that it seemed to be kind of paralysed too, like it didn't want to pass.

Finally half an hour was over, without the others having appeared.

They had to try it now, they couldn't wait any longer. Wenona went back into the cabin and her heart was pounding so hard that she thought it was going to burst.

"I think, I can move my legs again as usual", Michaela said and jiggled with her feet to check the feeling in them. Hank felt it too and Wenona knelt down, to cut his ropes first.

In the very same moment, as she pulled out the knife, she heard it: First faint and then quickly getting louder; the unmistakable noise of hoof-beats, which were coming closer in a slight gallop.

Her heart, that had pounded wildly just a moment ago, seemed to stand still now. With panic in her eyes and paralysed with fright and disappointment she gazed at Hank.

"Put the knife away, quick", he whispered to her, "Sit down on the chair." Like in a trance she did, what he had told her. The knife disappeared in her boot, and she picked up the gun and sat down. In the last second Michaela hissed: "For heaven's sake, the flour bag". And Wenona quickly slipped the white cloth over her face and adjusted it.

She was just in time, because Cass was already coming through the door.

"Well, sweetie, did you keep an eye on them?" Before the idea to point the gun in her hands at him could even touch her, he had already taken it away.

He pulled her close to him and then pushed her through the door. Before he went out himself he turned around to Hank and said: "By the way: We've finally found a use for you. The lady will enjoy it." And laughingly he slammed the door shut.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

Sully's train arrived at the station of Colorado Springs in the late afternoon. The sun was already standing deep in the sky and reminded him, that there was only a little time left.

He had hardly got off the train when Horace came running towards him.

"Sully", he shouted, "there is some news".

"Michaela?" Sully asked anxiously, but Horace shook his head.

"No, unfortunately not, but the telegram, that you sent … Well, first we thought it wouldn't help at all, but then the Reverend could remember and Grace and Loren…"

Before Horace could go on confusing Sully with disconnected information, Daniel appeared.

"What have you found out?" Sully asked at once, and Daniel told him everything in sequence. When he had finished, Sully remained in pensive silence. Then he suddenly turned around and ran to the clinic. He wondered why he hadn't thought of checking all the doors of the clinic earlier. The entrance to the examination room was locked from inside, the same with the back entrance, which was leading to Graces Café and of course the front entrance to the recovery rooms. Only the last entrance under the stairs he had left unchecked, because it was never used and always locked up anyway.

In the time when the building had been a boarding house, the guests, who were accommodated in the back part of the house, could come and go through this door, but since the clinic had existed, this door had never been used as an entrance and was permanently locked. But not this time: As Sully had assumed the door was unlocked. The abductors had come out here and had been able to put their victims, who had probably been wrapped in blankets, into the wagon, quietly and quickly. Daniel hadn't been there to notice them from the sheriff's office, and the view to the café had been obstructed, besides Grace and Robert E. had been busy with the smoking stove anyway, which presumably also attracted the attention of all the guests.

They had planned everything extremely well and it would be the same with the handing over of the money, Sully didn't fool himself about that. They would be prepared for every eventuality.

As if he could read Sully's thoughts, Daniel asked: "What are you going to do now, Sully?"

"I don't know yet", Sully mumbled almost unintelligibly.

"Do you want to wait for Preston?"

Sully shook his head: "I can't. I can't rely on the money arriving in time and I also can't rely on it saving Michaela and Hank, Hank least of all."

When Daniel frowned questioningly, Sully told him in-depth the entire story of Melissa St.Claire, including the part he had left out in his telegram.

Daniel was shocked. "You think they want…"

"In any case it would fit with what we know about them already. Judging by the way Mrs. St.Claire described them they are cold as ice, more devils than humans."

Sully walked up and down restlessly and racked his brains about how he could proceed, what he could do without putting Michaela's life at risk.

"Couldn't we just settle down to lie in wait and watch out for them to come and fetch the money?" Daniel suggested.

Sully shook his head again. "They are certainly prepared for something like that. It would be much too dangerous for Michaela and Hank."

Daniel nodded and absentmindedly watched Dorothy, who came out of the Gazette, wearing her hat and a coat, and untied the reins of her horse, which was hitched outside. She met Daniels gaze, and thought, that it was directed at her, as he looked so thoughtfully; so she paused a minute and explained to the two men: "I want to ride to Cloud Dancing. He doesn't know yet what has happened and I think that I should tell him." She was a little bit embarrassed and hastened to mount the horse, but Sully suddenly jumped at the mention of Cloud Dancing's name and held her back: "Wait, Dorothy, I come along."

Daniel had no idea what Sully had in his mind, but naturally he wanted to ride with him.

"No, Daniel, I'll come back as soon as possible. You must hold the position here, in the case that you hear something from Jake and Preston."

"Do you have a plan?" Daniel asked expectantly.

Sully hesitated, but then he said: "At least half of a plan."

Then he rode away with Dorothy and left his friend fairly baffled standing by the clinic.

For a moment Daniel didn't move from the spot. There was a tiredness and emptiness, which suddenly came over him as he had felt the last time when he, after a visit in Colorado Springs, had left the town prematurely. In those days he had first met Michaela and had fallen in love with her against his own will, after all she was the wife of his best friend.

To avoid major conflicts and in order to not endanger his friendship with Sully, but also out of consideration for Michaela, he had withdrawn. When the train had driven off with him and had taken him away from the only people in the world who meant something to him, he had felt just like now, although the two situations had absolutely nothing in common.

It might have been the helplessness, to which he was condemned, that caused these feelings. It was Sully, who had to decide what to do and how he would help Michaela. He, Daniel, had to stay out of this and just had to do what a good friend in such situation was supposed to do. To be there, if he was needed. Even though he wanted to start riding and search for her on his own. He hated to hang around doing nothing and to wait, what happened next.

And he hated to be reminded by all this, how much Michaela still meant to him.

He sank down, exhausted, on the bench in front of the clinic. The town was so quiet, so different than usual. The streets were almost deserted. There was no noise coming from the Gold Nugget, no permanent come and go, although the saloon was open. Jake had arranged that, before he had ridden away: "When Hank comes back, he won't be very pleased, if he has lost a lot of money in the meantime", he had said. _If_ he came back…

Daniel wasn't exactly a friend of Hank's, but to picture the town without him was nearly impossible.

And Michaela…, he forbade himself the thought of the possibility, that she wouldn't come back either.

What plan did Sully have in mind? Or: what half plan?

The sun touched the horizon now and glowed red and golden like a ball of fire. But it wasn't a beautiful sight it was menacing.


	22. Chapter 22

22.

She sat on the bare grass and watched the reddish glimmer of the sunset through the trees. In another place, at another time, she might have admired that gloriously colourful spectacle of nature, but in this moment she hated the sight of it. She hated herself.

Why hadn't she only acted earlier? Now it was all over. There wouldn't be another opportunity to escape. As much as she racked her brains about what she could still do, she had no idea.

Tomorrow they would set off to the oak and Warner and Cass wouldn't let her out of their sight. When they arrived there, Warner would ride on to the Silent Creek in due time and when he came back – that could take two hours – they would get to know, if both had to die or only one.

Last time they had waited until the next morning, but that wouldn't be necessary this time, since they already had their victim close by. Most likely they would do it at once.

A short while ago Cass had asked Warner again, if he might do it this time. Warner hadn't answered, but he had put on this mild, understanding smile, like a father who was possibly finally on the edge of buying the longed-for candy for his whining child.

There was no expression for how much she hated them both. She had never felt it with this clearness and might, although it had always been like this; maybe that was exactly the reason.

But a new feeling had awoken in her, one that she hadn't known until now and that she couldn't name, that lit up her inner being and warmed it like a fire.

But it was also a feeling that drove her to an extent of despair, which was worse than anything, in view of what the next day would bring.

All of a sudden she wished for a God or Wakan Tanka or whatever, a force that could help and provide justice.

In a helpless gesture she brought her hands together like she had seen among the Whites and she closed her eyes: Whoever hears me, help me, please…

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The cabin was almost completely concealed in darkness, since none of the abductors had bothered to light the lamp.

Michaela couldn't see Hanks face, but she could recognize that he had propped his head in his bound hands. He had remained in this position for ages now, not saying a single word. Since their plan for the escape had failed and that man had left the room together with Wenona, he practically hadn't talked anymore, not even one of his usual curses had passed his lips.

She suspected what was going on in him and she couldn't claim that she was less worried. But all the time she had set her hope on Sully more than on anything else; that he would find her, as he had found her before; that he would somehow manage to save her. He had never given up so far and had already achieved things that seemed to be impossible. He had always been there, when he was needed, always…

It was just that he barely had time to do anything this time, Michaela heard an anxious, doubtful voice inside her saying; he had no hint, where in the whole of Colorado he ought to begin with the search.

Michaela tried to silence that voice with all her might. Was she supposed to prop her head into her hands too, to resign in her fate? Was she supposed to silently wait, until these criminals would discover** t**he next day that the money they had demanded wasn't there, and then they would shoot them or whatever.

Michaela Quinn had never been a person, who would simply resign herself to situations. She had been used to fighting against adversities, holding her ground, where people wanted to force her to give in.

She wouldn't also hang her head now and she wouldn't allow Hank to do it and to draw her with him either.

"Hank!"

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He heard her quite clearly, but he made no attempt to react. She should leave him alone. If there was something that he couldn't stand right now, then it would be one of these profound conversations with Michaela. What did she still want from him? To talk about another plan for an escape? Maybe one, which consisted in gnawing through the ropes with their teeth and then disappearing between the window gaps? It was also possible that she just remembered that invisibility cloak, which she surely carried under her skirt. Or maybe she simply wanted to talk him into believing that Sully, her big hero, would come and save them both. Why, if it helped her to face the end more calmly, all right then. But she didn't have to bother him with that.

The only real chance they'd had had gone and it was hardly likely that there would be another coming up.

"Hank…"

This time her voice was different, begging, almost tender.

Forget it, Michaela. Had you only once talked to me like this in Colorado Springs, instead of permanently setting that Know-it-all-I'm-a-doctor-tone…

Nevertheless, it was interesting how his name sounded if someone called him with so much emotion. How would it have sound if Wenona had said it?

He allowed himself no single further thought about her, not about her eyes or her voice or her hands. It made everything even worse. The idea that she would still be surrendered to these bastards in future and that he couldn't do anything, absolutely nothing to help her drove him mad. He saw her over and over again in his mind, the expression in her face when she had heard the approaching noise of the horse hooves and every hope had disappeared into thin air.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Han…", the rest of his name was drowned in a sudden sob, which Michaela could only suffocate with her hands to late.

He lifted his head and it became clear to him in a flash, how much fear Michaela must have, and that he had behaved like a selfish jerk once again.

"Michaela", he started guiltily, "I'm sorry." He couldn't see her face, but she nodded and with a resigned tone in his voice he added: "I'm not Sully." – "It's all right, Hank", she said softly, "it's all right."

The noise of the bolt was heart from outside again. Wenona came in and carried two cups and two plates with a kind of supper. She put both down on the table, closed the door and lit the lamps with a match. When the room became brighter, Michaela quickly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, but Wenona had already seen them. She took one of the cups and a plate and kneeled down beside her.

"Drink this. Then you'll feel a little bit better perhaps. It won't exactly taste very well, but that mustn't bother you." She had pushed up the flour bag, so that Michaela could see her face. Wenona gave her a deep and forceful look.

Then she got up and went over to Hank with the other cup and plate. She placed both on the floor next to him and after a quick glance at the door she looked at him.

"You mustn't give up, because I won't either", she said with a low voice. "I swear that I will use the first opportunity to help you to escape. I will try everything …till the end."

Hank gave her a look back and he didn't bother to hide his feelings anymore. "Don't take a risk to your own life", he said seriously.

"I'll only take a risk, if I do nothing", she said without breaking the eye contact. And suddenly she didn't care about anything, she leant forward and kissed him. Maybe there would never be another opportunity. Only this once. And even before their lips touched, she knew that he had longed for that moment too. For a few seconds the world turned over, the cabin disappeared, the imminent danger and the past as well. For a few seconds an escape succeeded, which nobody could ever prevent. But the very last moment, when they parted, ached more than either of them could have foreseen. As if it was the farewell…

With a last tender touch and a wistful smile in her eyes Wenona got to her feet and turned to go. When she was at the door again and just had pulled the bag over her face, Hank called her name. She turned around, pushed the bag up again and looked at him expectantly. He made a quick awkward glance at Michaela, who had tactfully looked away the whole time, and he hesitated a bit, but then he said with a husky voice: "Would you… would you please say my name… once?"

She looked at him for moment then she smiled …and said it…


	23. Chapter 23

23.

In Colorado Springs it had gotten dark in the meantime, but nobody thought of sleep. Loren had locked the store and gone over to the saloon, where he also found Daniel, Robert E. and Horace, who were excitedly talking to each other. On the table in front of them there were three glasses of Hank's best whiskey, not watered down, and in the middle of the table lay a piece of paper with a note in Horace's handwriting, which Loren took in his hand and eagerly read:

_We have the money and will set off on our way back immediately. Jake_

Loren let out a triumphant and rasping laugh and ordered a whiskey too.

"That really calls for a drink", he said and was slightly disconcerted when he noticed that Daniel didn't exactly share his feeling of elation.

"What's up? They will release Dr. Mike, when they get the money. They did it with that woman from Denver, too, didn't they?"

Daniel exchanged uncomfortable glances with the two others, to whom he had already told what Sully feared. Loren and Hank were friends after all, and it wasn't that easy to enlighten him about the probability that the danger wouldn't nearly be averted, even with the handing over of the money.

But to leave Loren, who looked around impatiently among his company, in the dark, was impossible too, and so Daniel told him everything he knew from Sully about the circumstances of Melissa St. Claire's release. And when Loren looked horrified but still not comprehending, he explained to him that they assumed that Hank was still alive, and that he was supposed to be the victim after the handing over of the money.

Loren literally collapsed in his chair and then he had to take a big gulp of whiskey.

"Sully rode with Dorothy to Cloud Dancing. He said he had a plan, perhaps", Daniel tried to encourage Loren, who looked completely devastated. Loren nodded and mumbled something like "Sully sure can do something", but it merely gave the impression of the stammering of an old man, who doesn't know exactly what he says anymore, and Daniel noticed for the first time, how old Loren appeared when he was so worried.

He patted his hand briefly and reached for his own whiskey. If only Sully would come back.

In that moment the approaching noise of galloping horses could be heard. Daniel jumped up and saw Sully, Cloud Dancing and Dorothy, who stopped their horses in front of the clinic and dismounted. When Sully spotted Daniel at the entrance of the Gold Nugget he immediately ran over to him, followed by Dorothy and, slightly hesitantly, Cloud Dancing, who had never set a foot over the threshold of the saloon.

"Sully, Jake sent a telegram", Daniel instantly told him, "they have the money and are already on the way back. They must be here by the early morning tomorrow." Sully sat down at the table. Apparently he was nervous and didn't seem to have actually listened. "Very good", he said, "this might gain us a little time." Dorothy sank into a chair next to Loren and seemed to digest the news with only very moderate delight, too. Daniel pulled up another chair for Cloud Dancing and made an inviting gesture, whereupon the Indian, who obviously felt uneasy at this place, even if the owner wasn't there, took a seat.

"Well", Sully started after a deep sigh, "I will ride to the Silent Creek with Cloud Dancing tonight."

"Tonight?" Robert E. asked incredulously, "that's much too dangerous. I mean, to ride to Denver at night is all right, cause you can follow the railroad, but there are no rails leading to the Silent Creek, which you can orientate yourself with in the darkness."

"The Indians have never needed rails for orientation, Robert E. ", Sully stated, "Cloud Dancing and I will find the way, and we have to do it tonight, because we don't know, if we'll be watched there in daylight. That won't be the case at night time."

"What are you going to do?" Daniel asked.

"We'll settle down to lie in wait", Sully answered plainly.

"But they will sure be prepared for that, they could see you."

"They won't see us, and I don't believe that they are prepared for everything", Sully said and looked at Cloud Dancing who responded his gaze with a scarcely noticeable smile.

"But what shall we do, when Preston and Jake get back?"

"They shall rest for a little while, if necessary. Then you'll ride to the Silent Creek. You know the way, Daniel?" Daniel confirmed the question with a nod.

"Good. It wouldn't be bad, if you came along, too, Robert E."

"Sure thing, I will", the blacksmith answered instantly.

"We'll all come along", Loren said determined. Sully looked at him and was touched, but he shook his head equally determined. "No, Loren, it's better if you and Horace stay here. We shouldn't be too many, besides Horace should stay at the telegraph office and you…" his eyes went over to Dorothy, "You should take care of Dorothy." Loren saw Dorothy's pale face, her eyes, which were surrounded by deep shadows, since she had barely slept, because of all the worries about her dearest friend, and even if he knew that Sully only wanted to avoid telling him that he was too old for such strenuous ventures these days he still saw that Dorothy actually needed him.

"Yeah, you're probably right", Loren said, and Dorothy silently squeezed his hand.

"And now I'll tell you what I intend to do", Sully addressed to Robert E. and Daniel. "When you set off tomorrow morning, you'll have to take along two extra horses and Wolf." And with a low voice he explained his plan to them.


	24. Chapter 24

24.

Michaela woke up the next morning with the strange feeling of having had an incredibly refreshing night. She had slept deeply and for a long time, and she couldn't remember dreaming anything. She cast a glance over to Hank, but he was still asleep and looked completely quiet and relaxed, too.

In former times she would have bet that someone like Hank would snore like a bear at night, but that wasn't the case at all, as she established, to her surprise and amusement. And when she softly chuckled to herself, she noticed almost shocked, how calm she was considering the things which possibly lay ahead this day. But even this realization couldn't disturb her composure.

Hank turned onto his other side and the blanket that was lying over him almost slid off. So, she had brought him a blanket last night, Michaela thought and she recalled the previous evening, still moved. Not even in her dreams had she believed, that Hank Lawson was able to show deep feelings for somebody, particularly if this 'somebody' was Half-Indian.

The bolt creaked and Wenona came in, carrying two cups and plates in her hands just like the evening before. And again she closed the door behind her very carefully, just to push the bag up over her face. Her first look was meant for the sleeping Hank, but when she saw that Michaela was already awake she gave her an embarrassed smile and gave her the breakfast.

"How are you feeling?" she asked and there seemed to be an expectant tension in her voice.

"Good", Michaela said and added, a little astonished, "very good actually."

Wenona smiled and said: "I'm glad to hear that. Drink your tea." Then she went over to Hank.

She rested her hand on his shoulder and was about to gently wake him up, when she heard the hard steps of cowboy boots behind her. With a quick movement she drew the cloth in front of her face, gave Hank a firm push and said with a loud, impatient voice: "Hey, come on, wake up." Hank started and opened his eyes, confused; however he immediately saw that one of the two men had stepped into the cabin behind Wenona's back. He walked towards Hank, strolling and chortling, and kicked him in the legs with full force.

Wenona jumped, but Hank didn't move a muscle. He simply looked coldly up to him and straightened up without a word.

"That's the way to do it, sweetie, simply a tough kick", Cass said, but since he hadn't exactly got the intended effect, he sounded a bit disappointed.

"We'll set off in a few minutes", he announced as he strolled over to Michaela, maybe to see if he could impress her more, "so, hurry up; understand?"

Michaela tried to ignore him and concentrated on her tea, which she drank in small sips and slight repugnance.

While Cass's attention was caught by the woman doctor, Wenona held out the cup to Hank and gave him a meaningful look through her eye slits. Hank took the cup as well as he could manage with bound hands and drank, but while doing so he constantly observed Cass's every move.

The man was crouching down now close in front of Michaela and looking at her temptingly, but Michaela continued to be determined not to pay attention to him. She pretended to be completely alone with her cup of tea.

But then she felt a hand beneath her skirt, which pushed it slowly higher, over her ankle and then over her knee.

"Stop it", she angrily snapped at him and tried to turn her legs to the side and to push down the skirt again, but he held onto her with one hand and groped her knee with the other while he was laughing his nasty chortling laughter: "I've always known, that you are a real wildcat. Noni could learn a lot …" He didn't come further, since something crashed so hard against his back that it knocked him over. Hank had thrown himself into him.

"No", both women burst out almost at the same time and watched, terrified, as Cass quickly got over the first shock and furiously began to hit out and kick at Hank, who of course wasn't able to equally defend himself.

The noise called Warner into action. He remained at the door, assessed the situation and said in his usual quiet, but dominant nature: "Leave him alone". Cass whirled around, breathing fast with anger. Warner made a brief movement with his head towards the door and Cass obediently started to go outside. When he passed Warner, the latter stopped and held onto him: "You don't want to deprive yourself of a much greater pleasure, do you?" he said, but his eyes were pointed on Hank, who was lying on the floor softly groaning.

"We'll set off in ten minutes", he said then in a matter-of-fact tone, as if nothing had happened. He also gave a signal to Wenona to come, who hesitantly stood in the room with a pounding heart and didn't know what to do. She resisted the urge to go to Hank to see if he was all right and instead followed the other two outside.

Michaela, however, moved over to him at once after everybody had been gone.

"Hank, are you all right?"

He turned around to face her and nodded: "Could be worse, and you?" Michaela gratefully smiled at him. "I'm okay, thanks to you", she said, "you did it again."

"What?" Hank asked, "acted thoughtlessly?"

"You will get yourself into a right hell of a mess, right into the devil's kitchen", Michaela said with a gentle, not seriously meant reprimand in her voice. Hank tried to grin, which wasn't easy with a split lip, and said with studied indifference: "But that's where we already are, Michaela."

"Right", she confirmed.

They looked at each other for a while with a mixture of closeness and the simultaneous astonishment about it.

"What did she put in that tea?" Hank suddenly asked and Michaela shrugged.

"I haven't the slightest idea", she said thoughtfully, "but obviously something good."


	25. Chapter 25

25.

It was about noon, when Daniel and Jake arrived at the Silent Creek. It was a strange area. The stream bed, which was hardly recognizable as such, was completely dried up and the spring wasn't more than a thin trickle, which scantily moistened the rocks underneath. The forest in this part was light and open with little undergrowth. The area around the stream bed was slightly sloping, however just above the spring it began to get more and more steep and rocky. The ground of the forest was also partly seamed with rocks, but mostly there was soft moss, grasses, low brushwood and loads of leaves.

The reason, why the abductors had chosen this place, was quite clear. There was no place far and wide where someone could have been lying in wait without inevitably being discovered.

Daniel and Jake, who guided their horses through the stream bed, had already spotted the point where they should deposit the bag of money from a distance. There was a small tree strangely jutting out between two rocks just next to the spring, stretching its miserable arms into the air as if it was pleading for help. A red scarf was tied to one of the branches; they couldn't tell for sure if it was Hank's, but they took it as a clear hint to deposit the money right there.

The two men looked around. There was no living soul as far as the eye could see and the only noises they could perceive were the chirping of a few birds and the hooves of their two horses. They felt rather uncomfortable. Somehow they had expected to come across a sign of Sully and Cloud Dancing, who had ridden ahead the night before, but there was nothing. Hadn't they made it?

Although no soul was near, they didn't dare to communicate with words. The place seemed to have an intimidating effect on them, but possibly it was just the threat they connected with it.

Daniel, who carried the bag with the money with him, had given Jake an uneasy look, before he swung from the saddle and went over to that strange little tree. Jake's gaze constantly wandered over the trees, not so much because he expected to spot the abductors or even their victims, but because he was searching for Sully.

Daniel took the scarf down from the branch and put it in his pocket. He paused briefly before he put down the ransom and scanned the ground, the branches of the tree and the rocks first to make sure he didn't overlook a note from the abductors, but there wasn't one.

However when he turned around again, he spotted a rolled up piece of paper sticking out of a notch of a tree. He vacillated before he carefully stepped closer and finally reached out his hand for the paper; Sully had exhorted them to be very alert at the Silent Creek. Jake watched him with a tense expression on his face.

Daniel unrolled the paper and read what was written there. When he was finished he immediately let his eyes roam over the ground. Suddenly he focused on a spot only about four feet from him. He crouched down, took a branch, which was lying nearby, and slowly moved it flatly over the ground towards the spot, he had seen. Finally he lifted the branch slightly, so that a thin tightly stretched wire became visible.

Damn, Daniel thought and broke into a sweat. Jake had dismounted from his horse in the meantime, but Daniel indicated to him to stay were he was.

_I would advise you not to have any stupid ideas; you would not only put the life of our prisoners at a risk, but also your own, and if you want to know how I mean that, then have a careful look on the ground around the tree, in front of which you hopefully still stand right now. Try out what happens, if you intend to have a look around this place too thoroughly. And in the case that you survive this little test, that I assume you will do, you ought to set off for home immediately, the very same way you came._

Maybe that was just a trick, Daniel thought and still held the branch, undecided and breathing heavily. Jake took a few steps in his direction.

"Don't move!" Daniel barked nervously at him and Jake stopped at once.

Daniel turned the branch around until he found a spot, where he could hook the wire. And slowly, very slowly he drew it towards him. All of a sudden the air was filled with an eerie whiz; quick as lightning and out of nowhere a spear was racing through the trees towards the ground and landed exactly at the place where a man who had overlooked the wire, would have come to fall.

Daniel, whom the fright had hit like a flash stared, terrified, at the place where the spear had buried itself into the ground. Jake, who was no less shocked, could barely manage to bridle the horses, which had become restless and suddenly had a tendency to run away. After a few seconds Daniel got up, went past Jake, not without silently handing him the message and swung himself into the saddle again.

"Let's get away from here", he said, still slightly breathless. Jake, who had skimmed over the note, followed his example and together they rode back again through the empty stream bed.

After only a short while the scenery of the forest changed; it became denser, less open, and even the background noise seemed to be different. And since they felt safer now, the men began to talk to each other again.

"Do you really think they have built more of these traps?" Jake asked. Daniel shrugged. "Maybe, but that's not the point", he answered and when Jake looked at him uncomprehendingly, he added: "They probably just wanted to show us what they are capable of." They then guided their horses away from the route which would have led them back to Colorado Springs, and took a smaller path instead. It led them deeper into the forest and soon they had to dismount. After a few more minutes they reached their destination, a small clearing between the trees, where Robert E. and Preston were already waiting for them.

"That's that," Daniel said simply and went over to Wolf, who was lying near the horses, which were tied to trees. He pulled the scarf and the piece of paper out of his pocket and let him sniff at them. "Now, we have to wait."


	26. Chapter 26

26.

They had removed the ropes from Michaela and Hank's legs, but had bound their hands behind their backs again and they had blindfolded them with black scarves. Then they had bundled them into a wagon and since that time the only thing they had perceived was the bumpy ride over rough ground. Michaela had no sense of time and couldn't tell how long this trip had lasted so far, but it seemed to be endless. They hadn't told them where they were going and what the point of this trip was, but Michaela found it much more disturbing than she would have found, if they had simply continued to hold them captive in the cabin. Moreover she had no sense of orientation and she also had no idea exactly where Hank was; she was sure that he was in the wagon too, but they had no contact.

Although she was afraid to utter a sound, the urge to hear a sign of life from him grew stronger.

"Hank?" she finally muttered under her breath.

"I'm here, Michaela", she heard his voice on her right side.

"Shut up", someone boomed coarsely down from the coach box. So, it was the younger man, who was driving the wagon. Where the other man was and above all Wenona, Michaela didn't know. Maybe she was sitting up there beside him. Michaela assumed instinctively that the leader was riding in front so that they were unwatched as far as possible.

After a short moment she moved a bit more to the right until she felt Hank's arm. She noticed that he leaned closer to her too, only lightly, only to make one feel the presence of the other. And suddenly, although or maybe just because this touch gave her such a comfort, she thought of Sully and more than ever she became aware that she possibly wouldn't see him ever again, wouldn't touch him ever again. And the thoughts burst into her like an unsolicited storm: Had she told him all that she ever wanted to tell him? Had she really let him know, what he meant to her? Would he get over losing her? And Katie… she was still so little, she couldn't be without her mother…

Michaela's tears seeped into the cloth in front of her eyes and she trembled with suppressed sobbing. Hank pressed his arm against hers and she understood the wordless message. She had to pull herself together. They would have no chance, if she lost her nerves. After a few minutes she got a grip on herself again, but she continued leaning close to Hank.

At some point the trip ended abruptly.

"Unfortunately we have to take a little walk afoot from here on", the pleasant, sonorous voice of the leader announced, "and I'm afraid", he continued in a regretful tone, "we won't be able to take off your blindfolds at the moment. But, don't worry, we'll show you the way."

Michaela felt that Hank suddenly moved away from her or perhaps was pulled away and a new wave of panic grabbed her. But then there was a small, gentle pair of hands, which lay on her shoulder and helped her carefully from the wagon.

Wenona took her with one hand by the arm and with the other hand she seemed to hold Hank. One of the men was apparently in front of them now and the other one went behind them.

And again she lost her sense of time. The path they walked was straight but very uneven and although Wenona was very prudent, Michaela stumbled more than once. Hank had no less difficulties, particularly because the man behind them repeatedly thrust him in the back with the rifle to drive him on. So it became clear, that the younger one was the one who was walking behind them.

Finally they stopped.

Michaela heard heavy steps walking through the leaves towards her, and then the blindfold was snatched from her eyes immediately.

The leader stood in front of her, and for some reason she didn't notice it at once, but then the change dawned on her so much more terribly: His face was no longer covered.

With cold grey eyes he stared at her, then stepped aside and with an inviting urbane gesture, with which he would have counted as a perfect gentleman in all high Bostonian circles, he directed her to a place under a tree, where a blanket was spread out..

"Make yourself comfortable", he said and once again his voice and his politeness becalmed Michaela against her better judgement. That he didn't consider it necessary any more to wear a mask could have only one meaning. But why didn't they kill them at once? Why all the efforts? Why this change of location? Could they possibly get rid of them here better than at the cabin? Michaela looked around. They were still in the middle of a forest and she couldn't see why this place should be special.

In the meantime Hank was freed from his blindfold as well. When he saw the uncovered faces of his abductors he let slip a sarcastic snort.

"You'll soon be laughing on the other side of your face", the younger one whispered in his ear; he also did without the flour bag and revealed an exceptionally brutal and greedy expression in his eyes. Hank refrained from a retort and wanted to go over to Michaela, but the younger man stepped in his way and pointed the rifle at him: "Over there", he said, and with a motion of his head, indicated in the direction of a large oak, beside which the leader was standing with a strong rope in his hand.

"Unfortunately we can't exactly make it as comfortable for you as for the lady", he said, as he threw Hank against the tree. "But I promise you that it won't last too long." And with the same lightning quickness, with which he had impressed them before, he cut the ropes round Hank's hands, only to fix his arms to the oak the very next second, and his apprentice gladly helped him. In no time they had tied him to the tree, so that he couldn't make the slightest movement; he could barely even move his head since they had tied the rope close around his neck, too.

Wenona and Michaela had watched the scene with bated breath, but while the latter soothed herself by the thought it had happened because they considered Hank as a man more dangerous and wanted to prevent him from a possible escape, Wenona was tortured by the memory of another man, who had been tied to the same tree in the same manner. She was standing exactly in Hank's view and he saw the helpless horror in her face.

For a moment he closed his eyes, as if he could fade out of reality this way, the brutal certainty, which he not only read in Wenona's eyes: He was going to die.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

Warner had wasted no time and had mounted his horse right after they had bound Hank to the tree. It had been necessary to give Cass some last advice, since Warner always feared, that the younger man wouldn't be able to keep himself under control, and would mess everything up. Of course they would kill the man anyway, but the right point in time was crucial and of course: the way it happened.

Everything had worked excellently with the woman from Denver. She had never even let a syllable slip over her lips and that woman doctor wouldn't either, if only the deterrence was perfect. To kill a man in the heat of the moment out of anger or hatred was only half as shocking as a coolly planned and quietly implemented execution.

Warner was very pleased with himself. Maybe they would be lucky and there would even be a lot of money for them in this affair, but even if not, what did it matter? Actually he hadn't expected to get the ransom; the sum was just a little bit too high.

No, that wasn't what inspired him. It was a game for him, a kind of sport, to commit a crime which was complicated and forced him to use his various skills. He didn't, for example, attach great importance to playing it safe and allow the abductions take place at night, or at least when there would be no witnesses nearby. Quite the opposite: that was exactly the challenge for him, to tear his victims right out of their everyday lives and their community, without anybody noticing and without leaving tracks. Only that gave him true satisfaction.

And then the game with them, to watch, how they behaved, how they reacted to his friendliness and to Cass's unpredictability, how they became unsure, frightening, when they left the cabin and drove off into uncertainty.

And of course the finale: He had learned scalping in the army and he had stopped counting how many Indian scalps he had gathered. He mastered it perfectly. In fact he was a real artist at it. He could only hope that Cass had watched him carefully the last times. But actually it didn't matter. He would manage it in such a way that the lady would never ever forget the sight of it.

Gradually he rode up to the Silent Creek. Even if it wasn't crucial to him, whether the money was there or not, it still caused a certain tension. Besides, he was curious to see if his trap had worked. Another of his skills he could use: He could build traps like nobody else absolutely invisible and equally fatal traps. Unfortunately there hadn't been enough time to build more than one, but this one surely wouldn't have failed to have its effect. Cass had wanted to build some more, but Warner wasn't quite sure if he could trust Wenona.

Of course he hadn't failed to see, that she had a soft spot for this longhaired guy. He had even enjoyed watching her little efforts for him. Wenona generally amused him; she wouldn't have still been alive if she didn't. She had a practical use because of her knowledge, sure, but actually that wasn't the main thing.She was so touchingly dependent on them and he liked that. He could make her do whatever he wanted. And how lovely she was, when she tried to hide her horror about their villainies. Too bad that Cass wasn't even half as smart as she was; then everything would have been even more exciting.

Warner had reached his destination. It was past three o'clock. He quietly looked around, but it was quite obvious that there was nobody watching him, far and wide. They wouldn't dare, because they considered him too shrewd. They would believe that he was prepared for that case and that they would put the woman doctor at risk. If Warner was ever to burst out into laughter, it would have been in that very moment, when he was amused by these fools, whose reaction he could foresee so precisely. Maybe, he thought complacently, maybe this was his greatest skill, to see through people, to grasp their lines of thoughts and to predict their actions.

He dismounted from his horse and walked slowly towards the place where the bag was deposited at the little tree. With a short, satisfied sidelong glance he noticed the spear that stuck in the ground to his left. He reached out and took the bag. Without hurrying he opened it and took a look inside. The sight of all that money elicited a surprised, soft whistle through his teeth. He hadn't expected that, but so much the better.

He turned around and went back to his horse. Before he stowed the bag in front of his saddle, he let his eyes roam around once more. He didn't pay any attention to the wolf which was wandering around at quite a distance, where the forest began to become thicker again. Now he had only one aim and that was to bring this profitable affair to an end.

He swung himself into the saddle and rode away without any further delay and without a backward glance.

All of a sudden not even thirty feet away from the spring, where the ground of the forest was widely covered with leaves, the earth was disrupted.

Sully and Cloud Dancing appeared on the surface as if the forest floor had spat them out.

Wolf came running vehemently and while Cloud Dancing already took up the chase, Sully bent down to the animal: "Fetch Daniel, quick, fetch Daniel." Then he turned around and rushed after Cloud Dancing, while Wolf ran in the opposite direction to give Daniel and the others the sign to leave and to show them the way.

The race against the time had begun.


	28. Chapter 28

28.

Cass had seen Hank closing his eyes and a triumphant euphoria spread through him. Finally they had cut him down to size. And it would even get better. He would whine…, just like the other one.

Cass never felt more satisfaction as in the moments when he saw people suffer. Their fear and their desperation aroused true feelings of happiness in him. He felt superior, when he could determine how much pain he wanted to cause them. Unfortunately Warner didn't leave him very many liberties; usually he wanted to do all by himself, but this time, this time _he_ would be the one who savoured the moment.

He laughed his unbearable chortling laugh again, while he sat down on a tree stump and playfully swung the rifle in his hands back and forth. When he let his gaze wander to the bound man once more in the greedy hope of finding more food for his perverse feeling of elation, his grin froze in his face. Hank's eyes were pointed directly at him and it wasn't fear that Cass read in them, but pure contempt and the determined refusal to take part in their disgusting game.

It wasn't exceptional bravery or enormous willpower which prevented Hank, bound to that oak, from backing down and made him swear to himself not to do that until the end. It was simply his deeply inherent lifelong refusal to let anybody manipulate and control him. Nevertheless he was a little surprised about himself. He wasn't that tired of life that the death wouldn't have mattered to him, not at all, but there was something that caused these thoughts to step into the background, so that he managed without any effort to make Cass unsure of himself with one icy look, as if their rolls were virtually changed.

Wenona hadn't missed this war of looks, and neither had she missed the fact that Hank wasn't willing to let himself be intimidated and to give in before the end. But how long could he stand this? Until the very end?

She had promised to search for another chance for an escape, but she just didn't see one. She had no gun and the knife in her boot wasn't much help. Cass kept an eye on her, even if he didn't let on. She knew that Warner didn't trust her completely and had surely warned him therefore a surprise attack wasn't possible. And she couldn't reach the rifle, in which, as far as she knew, there were still only two bullets anyway, either, since Cass boastfully walked around with it and wouldn't think of putting it aside. She had no idea what she could do. And the time passed by…

"What are you going to do with the money, by the way, in the case that you get it?" All eyes turned in astonishment to Michaela, who had asked this question. Hank frowned, but Cass stupidly asked back: "What?"

"I would like to know, what you are going to do with the money." Michaela repeated matter-of-factly. Cass didn't seem to know what he was supposed to answer or if he should answer at all. Michaela observed contentedly as his brain made great efforts to come to an appropriate reaction, so she decided to feet the fire: "Or is it your big friend who decides what happens with it?"

"Why?" Cass burst out.

"Well, he usually decides everything, doesn't heBut you sure will get your share."

Wenona had slowly crouched down and carefully tried to reach the knife in her boot. Cass didn't pay attention to her he was completely focused on Michaela now.

"Of course, I get my share**",** he barked angrily.

"Oh, yes, of course, that's just what I said", Michaela told him placatingly, and saw out of the corner of her eye that Wenona was pulling the knife out of her boot.

Hank had held his breath. Please, Michaela, he thought imploringly, don't say something wrong now, just for once.

"It's wonderful, if you can trust each other so much", Michaela continued, while Cass stared ominously at her. Wenona had the knife in her hand and got up slowly.

"I mean, he trusts that you have everything under control here…" Michaela forced herself to keep her chatting tone, although her heart began to thump as she saw Wenona coming closer behind Cass.

"…and you trust him that he won't simply make off with the money."

"What are you talking about?" Cass furiously jumped up and Wenona immediately stopped in her motion, the knife hidden behind her back.

Damn, Michaela, Hank thought.

"Nothing", Michaela said and unfortunately her voice had lost the uninhibited tone. "Only what I said, that…"

He cut her short. "Shut up, or I will cut your tongue out of your mouth", he shouted at her. Michaela started briefly and then looked coldly at him. "You may not dare to do that and you know it very well."

For a moment Cass clearly struggled to retain his composure, but then he turned away and went back to the tree stump.

"I can wait, Lady", he said and finally noticed Wenona, who still stood at the same spot.

"And what about you?" he asked threateningly, "do you wanna cause trouble too?"

Somehow she managed to make the knife vanish in her sleeve.

"I'm just thirsty", she said with a glance to the water bottle, which lay on the ground next to Michaela, "is that forbidden?" Without waiting for an answer she grabbed the bottle and drank; then she offered it to Michaela and finally she went to Hank. As she set the bottle to his lips, he whispered in a low voice to her: "Throw it away." And when Cass looked away for a moment, she let the knife slip behind the trunk and quickly scraped some leaves over it with her foot.

Then she went away from Hank without exchanging any further looks. The disappointment about the new failure was too bitter for them to bear the sight of it in the face of the other.

The time passed.

In another part of the forest, a good distance off, the group around Daniel, led by Wolf, had reached Sully and Cloud Dancing, who quickly mounted the two extra horses. They had pursued the abductor as far as possible, but he had an immense lead. And while Wolf picked up the trail, and they feverishly tried to make up for lost time Warner was already approaching the camp.

They heard him.

And no matter how much Michaela and Hank tried to maintain their composure, their nerves were still at bursting point. Wenona however was grabbed by such an intense feeling of helplessness that she thought she would suffocate.

Only Cass had found his grin again and looked towards Warner, who guided his horse through the trees without hurrying and with a contented expression on his face, in joyful anticipation.

When he reached them, Warner calmly dismounted and looked around. Then he went over to Michaela who forced herself to look at him.

He smiled and said: "You're very lucky, Lady, or maybe you have some good friends, whatever, in any case … you may go home."


	29. Chapter 29

29.

Michaela's tension dissolved into tears, which filled her eyes. She couldn't believe it. Sully had actually got hold of the money and they would go free. It was over.

"Then you will release us now?" she asked relieved.

Warner crouched down in front of her and gave her a friendly look.

"Well, I wasn't talking about …'_us_'. _You_", he pointed at her, "will be released, that was the deal."

Michaela stared at him in disbelief. She couldn't possibly have got that right.

"What do you mean?" she asked, and when he just raised his eyebrows instead of ananswer she said: "The ransom was for both of us and you have got it, so set us both free."

"That's not right; the ransom was only for you. The man over there just stumbled into this affair by chance." – "But that doesn't matter", she snapped resentfully at him.

"Oh, yes it does, absolutely", Warner contradicted her, "I always stick exactly to agreements."

Michaela stared at him, terrified, and then turned her head to Hank, who stood at the tree with a petrified face and didn't reveal how he took that. Fact was, that he wasn't surprised, just the opposite, it was exactly what he had expected. And the only thing that was left for him to do now was not to lose his composure. He wasn't willing to give them that pleasure at least.

"But I'm afraid…", Warner said slowly while he got up, and then he made a little pause for effect, in which he apparently brooded intensely, " I'm afraid, there is still a little problem."

Wenona turned away, disgusted. She already knew that little game and also knew that he would come to his sadistic top form now. However for Cass every single further word was pure enjoyment, although on the other hand he was barely able to wait for the moment when Warner would leave the field to him at last.

"What problem?" Michaela asked anxiously, just like Warner had expected. From now on he could predict every further reaction, every terrified gaze, every begging, every scream…

Again he pretended to have to think very hard, just to make the tension even more unbearable.

"Well…, you have seen us, haven't you?" he then said.

"And why did you take off the masks anyway?" Michaela asked indignantly.

He grimaced and shrugged. "That's not the point; whether with the mask or without, what's the difference?" he answered dismissively. "You could still say, that there were three of us, how tall we were, how old. You've heard our voices, maybe you've made a mental note of some peculiar characteristics. You could describe the region, where you have been, the cabin. You could say all that. But I want you", another little pause, "to say nothing at all." He crouched down in front of her again. "Not… a single… word! Understand?"

"I certainly won't say anything", Michaela assured him immediately.

Warner smiled at her: "But of course you would. And that's why we have a problem."

He fell silent and waited for her to deliver the text, he had practically put into her mouth.

"Why did you say that you would release me then?"

There you go, she worked like clockwork. He still smiled at her, and Michaela wished for the first time in her life to strike a human in the middle of his face. She felt such hatred inside as she had never known before. She was too intelligent not to see through his insidious game, not to know that she was nothing more than an object in a lousy cruel play.

"Don't worry", Warner's voice was very gentle, "because… I think I have the solution for our problem. And the young man over there", he made a movement with his head towards Hank, "will help us with it." Suddenly he jumped onto his feet and jerked Michaela up with him by her arm. A terrible premonition arose in her.

She struggled against him, but he held her in a firm grip while they neared Hank.

"What are you going to do?" Michaela panted, breathless with fear.

"We'll show you now, what will happen if you let out something about what you have seen, heard or experienced. And _if_ you do, we'll get to know about it, be sure of that."

"What are you going to do?" she repeated in panic.

"If we get to know that you have uttered just a single word, we will do with one of your good friends, who paid the money for you, or with your husband or maybe even with one of your children exactly the same as what we'll do now with him. And you will find their scalp in front of your door."

"NOOOOOOOOO".

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sully stopped. He had heard something, a good distance off, that sounded like a scream. He tried to focus and indicated for the others to be still.

There it was again.

And again.

There were clearly screams, but they were so far away and he couldn't tell for sure exactly where they came from.

Oh God, don't let something have happened to her, don't let us come too late, he thought desperately and drove his horse.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Michaela screamed as if she was bereft of her senses. And Warner did nothing more than to hold onto her. Just scream, he thought, who on earth should possibly hear you here.

However it made everything worse for Hank. As he had realized what they were going to do with him he could only manage with great difficulty to keep himself under control, but to see Michaela so frantic, so filled with horror, was hardly bearable and he was afraid of losing his nerves at any moment.

"So", Warner continued in a sober voice and he didn't seem to notice the screaming woman in his arms at all, "watch carefully, because you sure don't want to be responsible for the same happening to someone else as well. It's not an easy death, as you will see very soon."

"Please, don't", Michaela screamed, "please, don't do that, PLEASE."

"STOP IT", Hank suddenly roared at her and Michaela fell silent, startled and just trembling all over, "that's just what they want, Michaela." He looked at her imploringly and said softly once more: "Stop it, please." She understood and nodded in tears.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The screams had stopped. Sully was gripped by panic. What did that mean?

The others exchanged worried looks as well. The forest had become denser and they could hardly get through it with the horses. The abductor must have used another way. But Wolf seemed to have found a new track and started to run; he didn't use the way through that dense part of the forest though, but a way around, where there was more space.

They drove their horses after him. If only it would be the right way.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

For a fraction of a second Warners good mood was gone; that didn't actually belong to his play. But certainly it would go on just like it was planned very soon.

"Very well", he said, "then we'll see if you will still be that brave in a few minutes. Let's begin with the show." He nodded to Cass, who had waited only for that moment.

With a grin on his face he placed the rifle at the next tree to free both of his hands and walked saunteringly towards Hank. Then he drew the knife out of his jacket, the same knife Wenona had already become familiar with…

Michaela wanted to turn her head away, but Warner held onto her and forced her to watch it.

Cass stopped about four feet in front of his victim. He didn't want to rush things, didn't want to deprive himself of the joyful anticipation and he wanted to see the fear in his eyes. But he suffered a disappointment one last time.

Hank looked towards him without showing the slightest emotion. In the corner of his eye he discerned a movement. He assumed that it was Wenona, who didn't want to watch this, but he didn't look; he forbade himself to think of her, to think of anything that could possibly break him in the end.

Finally Cass stepped towards him and reached out his hand. Hank involuntarily attempted to move his head back, which made Cass's grin return to his face again.

"Time to go", he whispered, grabbed Hank's hair and raised the knife to his forehead.

In the very last moment when Cass was about to make the cut, Hank finally closed his eyes… and a gunshot tore the air…


	30. Chapter 30

30.

The bang could be heard loud and clear, and it was unmistakable what caused it.

Sully and the others stopped the horses, alarmed. Whatever had happened, they had to go in the direction from which the shot had come as fast as possible. But the dense wood didn't allow them to ride through. If only they would find a way soon. At least they knew where they had to go now.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Warm blood was running all over Hank's face, but it wasn't his own.

When he opened his eyes after Cass had fallen to the ground in front of him, he saw Wenona aiming the rifle, deadly anger in her eyes.

Unnoticed and with the silence of the Indians she had stalked up on the sited gun, very well aware, that there could be no hesitation anymore. And the very last inhibitions, she might have had, had left when she saw the knife in Cass's hand.

_I guess you'll like it_,she heard him saying once more in her mind and she also saw his hateful, merciless face that began to light up when he could cause someone pain. She didn't want to see that face ever, ever again. And she aimed carefully…_Time to go_…...

Warner jumped.

Not that the death of his nephew had shocked him so much, but that there was somebody who opposed him, that somebody dared to destroy his plan; that made him stunned for a second, and this stunned state, which he wasn't used to and which he hated more than anything else made him become angrier and more dangerous than ever before.

Wenona knew that very well and she immediately aimed the gun towards him, but the shooting angle wasn't good. She had been able to shoot Cass without putting Hank at risk, but Warner held Michaela in front of him, so that she might possibly hit her instead if she was to shoot. And as well as that Cass had barely moved whereas Warner now ardently turned around and went right for her, dragging Michaela with him. He held onto her easily with one hand, while he groped for his revolver with the other one. And Wenona acted instinctively once more: she could neither shoot nor run away, so she ran directly towards him whirled the rifle around and banged the butt of the rifle against his head with full force.

Warner swayed, but he remained on his feet and grabbed the gun in Wenona's hands. She desperately tried to keep hold of it, but Warner was stronger.

Hank watched all that without the slightest chance to be able to step in. He tugged frantically at his ropes, but it was pointless. He had to helplessly watch Warner wrestling with the two women. Wenona didn't have the strength to resist him any longer; it was only the fact that Warner was a bit dizzy from the blow which prevented him from completely gaining the upper hand over her. He had already snatched the rifle and it was only a matter of time, until this unequal fight was over.

"Michaela", Hank roared, "help her!" Michaela who was bounced like a doll by Warner and gasped in panic had no idea what she was supposed to do. Her hands were still bound in such a way that allowed her to move only her fingers. But her feet were free.

"Do something", Hank shouted again.

Then there was another gunshot. Warner had fired the rifle; he hadn't hit anyone, but there was no bullet left now. He threw it away and grabbed Wenona by the throat; he let Michaela go while doing this, but reached with his free hand for his revolver.

"Michaela", Hank screamed almost hysterically now.

She turned around and with all her might, drove her knee between his legs. But the effect wasn't as powerful as she had hoped. Warner certainly sank groaningly to his knees, but he didn't let go of Wenona, who was seriously fighting for breath now.

"Just you wait, you…" Warners voice sounded like that of a dangerous beast. He reached for Michaela, but she dodged him. "I will make you…"

"You will do nothing", Michaela suddenly furiously shouted back, straightened two fingers and sunk them into his eyes.

Warner screamed with pain and let Wenona go immediately, who, although she panted violently, didn't hesitate for a second and ran over to Hank. On the ground behind the oak she felt for the knife that she had dropped down there; she found it and cut his ropes in a feverish rush.

"Take the gun away from him, Michaela", Hank shouted while he waited impatiently as Wenona released him from his ropes.

But Warner, who was sprawled on the ground, howling with pain, had already grasped the revolver himself, and began to wildly shoot around, without being able to see anything.

Michaela fled to Wenona and Hank. Warner at least knew in which direction he had to aim and no second too early Hank was freed from his ropes so that they could take cover.

While Wenona cut Michaela's ropes too, Hank wiped his face with his sleeve and got ready to rush at Warner, but Wenona stopped him.

"No, stay here", she warned him.

"She is right", Michaela agreed straightaway, "it's too dangerous to attack him."

In the meantime Warner had struggled to his feet, but still held one hand over his eyes. Hank hesitated. He was torn between the deep wish to finish this man off and the realization that after everything he had gone through, he wasn't in a fit state to win a direct fight against him.

"We have to get away", Michaela urged, "he is not blind, it's very likely that only his cornea is hurt; that's very painful, but it doesn't put him out of action, Hank."

How far could they run? For how long? No matter which way they looked at it, one thing was clear: without a gun their chances were not very good.

Warner reached into his pocket and pulled out some bullets to reload his gun. He staggered, his eyes were watering and he constantly blinked and rubbed his eyelids with his hand, but he seemed to recover. His pride was hurt much more than his eyes, and he was at least as furious and dangerous as a wild animal that had been hurt. He was determined not to let them get away, not on any account.

"We have to flee", Wenona exhorted, "at once."

Hank nodded: "Okay, then. GO!"

And they started to run.

Warner heard them and forced himself to resist the urge to keep his eyes closed tightly, and even if he was handicapped in his vision, he could see enough to chase them.

Michaela, Hank and Wenona rushed through brushwood and over branches and stones without a destination, just anxious to bring as great a distance as possible between them and Warner, and to find cover behind the trees at the same time. As long as the forest was that dense they couldn't make very much headway, but on the other hand Warner had no free way to shoot and thank God he didn't seem to catch up with them.

Michaela, however, had difficulties with her skirt, which got caught in shrubs a few times and made her stumble and almost fall, so Hank finally took her hand.

Shots bangedcontinually behind them. Warner couldn't aim well with his injured eyes, but obviously he hoped for a lucky shot.

They tried not to think about what chances they had of escaping their pursuer or how long they could run through the forest this way. Their feet just carried them ahead, since they didn't have any other possibility.

The forest seemed to be endless and Warner apparently had superhuman strength or at least a superhuman will, because he just didn't give in.

Wenona, however, gradually slowed down. Hank and Michaela didn't notice it for a while, since she had been right behind them all the time.

But the night when Cass had raped her had left painful reminders on her body and even if she tried to pull herself together, she just couldn't run any faster. And so the distance to Michaela and Hank grew, whereas the distance to Warner got smaller.

Hank looked back at some point and saw with fright that Wenona was falling behind more and more.

Warner fired a shot that hit a tree.

Wenona noticed that Hank had stopped running and wanted to wait for her, but he mustn't do that, they had to run on.

"Run!" she shouted to him. Michaela looked back as well now.

"Please, run on", Wenona shouted again.

Another shot, the last bullet in the revolver.

Wenona felt a hot pain in her back and fell forward onto her knees. She saw Hank shouting something and looking appalled, but she couldn't hear him, only a kind of humming noise, that filled her ears. She felt, that breathing became more and more difficult, saw that Hank wanted to run to her and saw Michaela who held onto him.

She couldn't hear herself when she gasped out "Run!" for the last time.

That noise in her ear got louder, the pain in her back got numb and then everything became black and still…


	31. Chapter 31

31.

"NOOO!" Hank yelled as Wenona fell to the ground, on her face. Michaela prevented him with all her might from running to her and by doing so running directly into Warner, who just was reloading his revolver.

"It's no use, Hank", she beseeched him, although it broke her heart to leave Wenona behind, "she wanted us to escape, you can't do anything for her." And when he still resisted, she tugged and shouted at him: "Come on, she wanted you to live."

Warner had already taken up the chase again. If Michaela hadn't been with him, Hank would have changed direction and would have rushed at Warner; he wouldn't have cared if he had run straight into a reloaded revolver or not. But he couldn't leave her alone.

Michaela took his hand in hers and pulled him away with her; and without him seemingly contributing anything, like by themselves, his legs began to move again.

For a last time he looked back, just in time to see Warner firing another shot at Wenona's lifeless body when he passed her, almost casually without even really looking at her.

The feelings of hatred became so intense in Hank that they took his breath away. Instead of making this bastard suffer for what he had done to them he had to run away from him. To feel that powerless made him virtually go insane.

Michaela didn't know how long she could hold out, how long she could run, could stand the fear, could ensure that Hank wouldn't follow his innermost urge and start a hopeless fight against Warner at some point.

Her side ached, she gasped more and more, and she was filled with the desire to simply collapse to the ground. Only the thought of Sully and the children made her run on.

Every now and then she cast a worried glance to Hank, whose face was completely frozen and didn't reveal any feelings, but she knew what was going on behind the front even so.

There were shots behind them again. Michaela couldn't tell how great their lead was, since she didn't dare to look around out of fear that she would stumble, if she didn't solely focus on where she ran. It would have already happened a few times if it hadn't been for Hank, who had held her firmly to prevent a fall.

Thank God, the trees provided some cover, but suddenly it got lighter in front of them. Michaela was horrified to see that they were running directly towards a huge clearing.

"Oh my God", she gasped, "what shall we do now?"

Hank looked quite as shocked as she was, but they had no choice. They couldn't simply stop and take their time to think of a new plan. They just had to run on and hope that the distance was great enough and that Warner couldn't aim accurately.

The clearing got nearer and nearer; at any moment they would leave the sheltering trees behind.

Warner had recognized his chance as well and Michaela thought she heard a kind of triumphant growl behind her.

And then they had reached the last row of trees and ran over open terrain. They would have to cover a few hundred yards before they reached the other side of the clearing. But at the very same moment as they left the forest, six riders broke through the trees on the opposite side, and beside them ran a wolf.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

When Sully recognized Michaela and Hank from the distancehesped up his horse, and the others followed his example, when they saw the man who appeared at the edge of the forest, almost right behind the pair, and fired with a revolver.

Hank dragged Michaela to the ground and Daniel, Preston and Jake drew their revolvers and fired towards the man, who was forced to stay inthe forest.

In the lee of the gunshots Hank and Michaela struggled to their feet again and ran toward the riders.

"SULLY!" Michaela screamed uncontrollably and all the feelings she had suppressed so far erupted from her. "SULLY!" He stopped his horse at her side, jumped off and drew her, overjoyed, into his arms, but his eyes passed over the edge of the forest, where he spotted Warner; he felt Michaela trembling all over, saw Hank whose face, hair and clothes were covered with blood and he thought of Melissa St.Claire, of what she had told him and of what he had promised her.

"Daniel, take care of Michaela", he said, drew his tomahawk and started to run.

"Gimme your rifle, Jake", Hank shouted to his friend.

"Hank, you are hu…"

"HURRY UP" Hank roared at him.

Jake threw the gun to him and Hank ran after Sully.

It wasn't in Warner's nature to admit a defeat to himself, but he had no time to think about it, for he saw the two men rushing towards him and in their facial expression he recognized pure fury. His first instinct was to aim his revolver at them, but even before he could just raise the gun, Hank had already fired the first shot. The bullet hit the tree behind which Warner took cover, and made it clear to him that he mustn't wait any longer if he wanted to avoid a closer encounter with them.

Immediately he started to retreat and ran into the forest again, trying to take the direction in which they had left their horses.

He could sense the two behind him. It was as if their determination and their fury had set the air on fire. He expected more gunshots, so he twisted and turned to use the trees as shelter like Michaela and Hank had done before, but they didn't come. The thoughts in his head began to revolve; he knew what the absence of more shots meant: The distance was still too great and didn't justify the waste of bullets. He risked a brief glance over his shoulder and saw that the two slowly but surely gained ground. And if Warner had ever felt something like fear, then it was when he saw their faces, as they were running after him through the forest, over obstacles, as if they weren't even there.

Sully and Hank had hardly ever had anything in common, but now they were running side by side behind this man, who had given them hell on earth and it took no words, no glances, for them to get across to each other. Every single feeling they had been through over the past few days seemed to turn into hatred for this man and this further into an invincible power that pushed them forward.

Sully heard the broken voice of Melissa St. Claire over and over again in his mind, saw her grey face, and he remembered the note that had threatened Michaela with the same fate.

He didn't know what his wife and Hank had had to suffer over the last hours, but Hank's appearance and Michaela's condition made him suspect.

Hank didn't actually have the strength to run on any more, but the picture of Wenona didn't leave his mind. He could still feel her, her hands and her lips. And the memory of her, as she had slowly closed her eyes and fallen lifelessly onto the forest floor, drove him crazy. He wouldn't stop before this man in front of them had paid for it.

And they came closer and closer…

Warner panted and threw another glace backwards. They had long since come within range, but they still waited. They didn't want to miss him they wanted to get him. And they were younger and faster than he was. The distance decreased more and more.

He stumbled, which made it even more difficult to breathe. He had lost his sense of orientation and didn't know if he was going the right way.

He could clearly hear their steps behind him, and he still held the revolver in his hand. There was no time to aim carefully, but perhaps he would be lucky. He pointed the gun backwards and pulled the trigger. Instead of a shot, there was only a soft click. The cylinder was empty.

Panic grabbed at him, cold sweat, that he had liked to see so much on his victims, ran down his back.

Warner was finished, and the last noises he heard in his life were the whiz of a tomahawk, and a gunshot.


	32. Chapter 32

32.

Sully and Hank stopped at the same time. It felt as if somebody had stopped time itself as well.

Everything was over.

And yet all wasn't well again.

Warner's death didn't make the memories fade away, didn't make the fears forgotten or the helplessness; no wound was healed, nothing was undone. The dead were still dead and the living had to live with what he had done to them.

Hank simply slumped down to his knees and when he did so, he felt as if he never could get up again. And shortly before he thought he was going to suffocate he let out his pent-up feelings with one single, enormous yell that came deep out of his soul.

At first Sully didn't know what to do. He felt empty after all these days and hours of overturning feelings. So he just stood in one spot for a while and stared into space. But eventually he laid his hand on Hank's shoulder and said quietly: "Come…"

Hank drew a few deep breaths, as if it was the greatest exertion today to stand up again and go back with Sully. And probably it really was.

For a few seconds they looked at each other, and any further word was unnecessary.

Together they made their way back, slowly and draggingly, until they saw, in the distance, Michaela and the others, who had followed them.

Life returned to Sully. All of a sudden he realized that his worst nightmare hadn't come true, that he had Michaela back again. Tears welled up in his eyes when he ran towards her, and saw her rush towards him, and in the moment when he held her in his arms, he forgot everything around him.

Michaela held him so tight as if this werethe only way that she could be sure that he was really there, that she was alive. She held him so tight as if any moment a man in a white flour bag could appear and tear her away from him.

Behind Sully's back she watched Hank coming. His face was tired, but apart from that it was blank. When he was about to pass, she drew away from Sully and held onto Hank's arm. He stopped briefly and met her gaze. At any moment she would say something significant, he thought, and a hint of his usual sarcasm, of the nature that could only be provoked by Michaela Quinn, returned for a second.

But she didn't say anything, she just looked at him with a deeper understanding than ever, and before he knew what happened to him, she had taken him into her arms as well.

For a moment Hank was completely overwhelmed but when Michaela let him go and he sought for a reaction on the faces of the others, he found nobody, including Sully, who found this gesture questionable. He smiled at Michaela in slight embarrassment and then he knew what was left for him to do. He started to walk and left the path from where they came.

"Where is he going?" Jake asked.

"He is going to Wenona", Michaela responded without further explanation, took Sully's hand and followed Hank.

He quickly found the way that they had fled from Warner before and it took not much time until he saw her body lying on the forest floor in the distance.

Michaela, Sully and the others stopped, and let him go to her alone.

"Who is that?" Sully asked with an involuntary low voice.

Michaela had to swallow before she could answer.

"She saved our lives", she said without turning her gaze away from the shape on the ground.

Hank had reached her now and they watched as he slowly knelt beside her, turned her gently around and took her into his arms.

Silent tears were running over Michaela's cheeks and she was about to turn away, since she felt like an intruder, when she saw Hank turning his head in their direction.

"Michaela", he called and at first it sounded slightly shaky.

"Michaela", he shouted once more, but this time loudly and excited, and Michaela started to move like she was in trance.

"Hurry", Hank's voice roared through the forest once more. "She is alive!"

**xxxxx**

**xxxx**

**xxx**

**xx**

**x**

_**THE END**_


End file.
